Posts from October 2007

I was lucky enough to accompany Norman Junior to the Emirates Stadium yesterday to see Arsenal thrash Sunderland 3-2. An ex-colleague has two season tickets (Section C, Row 4) and kindly offered them to me.

Although Arsenal aren't my team, it was still great to go and see a match as opposed to my usual viewpoint perched on my barstool.

The Emirates Stadium is really impressive. The view for all spectators is superb, there is plenty of legroom and the seats are actually padded.

We had a brilliant view from row 4 in the Arsenal 'end' and we watched the Arsenal goalies warming up. Bizarrely, Arsenal fans derive a disproportionate amount lot of pleasure simply from spotting their mates in another section of the ground.

As always, Sunderland brought an impressive, loyal and vocal support for an away fixture which the FA had helpfully scheduled for a 12 noon kick-off on Sunday.

The game got underway and Arsenal started impressively, stroking the ball around. Arsenal created early chances at will and deservedly took the lead after just 7 minutes when van Persie rocketed a free kick in off the underside of the cross bar.

Sunderland were still chasing shadows and Arsenal doubled the lead after 15 minutes when Phillipe Senderos managed to wrong-foot Craig Gordon. While the two early goals made for a decent atmosphere ('You're just a small town in Scotland'), I was starting to fear the worst for Roy Keane's Sunderland.

The onslaught continued and the unfortunate Diaby had another goal ruled out for offside. He had also netted just after the award of the free kick for the opening goal.

Thankfully, against the run of play, somehow Sunderland managed to conjure a goal out of nothing before half-time when Almunia (dodgy dyed hair) blocked a shot which fell nicely for Wallace who scored.

Urged on by the tremendous away support, unbelievably Sunderland equalised early in the second half when a powerful Jones header squirmed under Almunia's (dodgy keeper) body into the net.

Arsenal increased the tempo to regain the lead and maintain their lead at the top of the table. The Arsenal fans started to get restless. Toure nearly broke a post with a powerful drive from 30 yards. The young, pacy Theo Walcot came on as substitute and also struck the woodwork.

Unfortunately, just when I thought Sunderland might hang on for a point, Robin van Persie latched on to a Walcott cross with a quick finish to ensure justice was done.

Having just recovered from Noble's recent assault at West Ham, Alexander Hleb was caught by a late, late challenge which earned McShane a red card and prompted a rare spark of humour from the Arsenal fans ('just like your manager').

Attendance: 60,098

Pictures from a prawn sandwich munching, day tripper.

I went to see Control last night which is a film directed by Anton Corbijn about the life of Ian Curtis, lead singer with Joy Division.

The film is based on the book 'Touching From A Distance' by Curtis' wife, Debbie and is as much about the disintegration of Curtis' marriage when he embarks on an affair with a music journalist, Annik Honore, as the story of Joy Division.

The film was brilliant and, in particular, Sam Riley's performance as Ian Curtis was exceptional. The visual likeness was uncanny, the butterfly dancing, the eyes, the clothes, even the way he clutches the microphone. Everything about Riley's performance was perfect.

Even the voice. Much to my surprise, the actors even play instruments and sing on the live performances in the film and John Cooper Clarke makes an appearance reciting 'Chickentown'.

If you are a Joy Division fan, the story is well known. Joy Division are formed after the band see the Sex Pistols play The Free Trade Hall in Manchester. Ian Curtis, working at the employment exchange, joins as a singer. The band are championed by Tony Wilson and managed by Rob Gretton.

Ian Curtis then develops epilepsy and his health deteriorates as he struggles to control his condition with various medications. Curtis takes his own life in May 1980 on the eve of an American tour.

There was some poetic license in the film; Tony Wilson faints in a pub after signing the Joy Division contract in blood and Ian Curtis sees a girl have a epileptic fit at work who subsequently dies - the origin of 'She's Lost Control'.

Annik's quote in the film that 'She was scared - of falling in love' is at odds with Wilson's recollection in the recent Factory documentary that she was indeed scared but 'because of the lyrics, Tony. The lyrics. He f**king means it'.

Thankfully, though the film doesn't air Debbie's view that Ian Curtis always had a death wish and believed he would die young although it does continually show Curtis as the depressed, tormented, angst ridden poet wearing a long overcoat and a glum face.

The performances of the actors playing the other band members (Sumner, Morris and Hook) and Rob Gretton are also excellent with great attention to every last detail and obviously, the soundtrack is superb.

Although the film is told from Debbie's point of view (she co-produces the film), Annik is still portrayed as the glamorous groupie while Debbie is the housewife stuck at home struggling with a young baby (Natalie) while the band are constantly touring.

The end of the story is well documented. However, even though you know what's coming, even though it's 27 years ago and Ian Curtis undoubtedly had his faults (the film shows him to be an unfaithful liar), there is no denying the closing scenes in 77 Barton Road are moving.

Especially when 'Atmosphere' starts playing over footage of smoke coming from the chimneys at Macclesfield Crematorium (where Curtis was cremated).

'Control' is filmed in black and white - not pretentious art but in keeping with Anton Corbijn's photographs of the band and the 'Atmosphere' video he directed.

'So what's Macclesfield like then ?' - Annik to Curtis. 'Chin up, Ian. Things could be worse. You could be lead singer of The Fall' - Rob Gretton to Curtis as he recovers from a fit at a concert.

'The experience of being Joy Division was really really funny. No films will ever show that. We used to have a right laugh' - Bernard Sumner - from 'Touching from a distance.'

Many years ago, Norma and I bought my son a Formula 1 racing car. The car cost £230,000 and the wrapping paper cost £47.50. It was really difficult to conceal the present prior to the big day and the mystery gift somewhat dwarfed the other presents around the Christmas tree.

No seriously, this particular Formula 1 racing car was actually a child's bed. The racing car was fantastic, tastefully coloured in white and red with large black (wet weather) tyres and the headboard was the cockpit.

My son loved the bed too but, as with all things, his interest slowly dwindled with the passing of time. From being proud and excited to show it off to his friends, he became a little embarrassed when pals entered his room and saw his novelty bed.

Finally, he convinced us to replace the bed with some anonymous, bland divan with a supportive mattress and drawers (instead of gigantic, silver exhaust pipes) underneath. He kept moaning that he banged his head on the aerofoil every morning, his legs dangled over the end of the front spoiler and that he was now 23 years old, after all.

As this was prior to the days of eBay, we advertised the bed in the small ads section of the local paper. On the day the paper was published, a gentleman called and expressed an interest and said he would come round on Friday night.

Friday came and went. The gentleman didn't come round. Surprisingly, we didn't get any more telephone calls. Reluctantly, we prepared to take to bed to the tip as we had not been able to access the lavatory for four whole days as a Formula 1 racing car was completely blocking the upstairs landing.

Norma and I managed to manhandle the bed down the narrow staircase where it perched vertically and precariously in the hallway. Dinner guests looked perplexed and politely enquired: 'Do you know you have a Formula 1 racing car in your hallway ?'

Fortunately, the gentleman called again, this time promising to come round on Sunday. This time, he did come round with his young son whose eyes immediately lit up at the sight that greeted him in the hallway. The gentleman agreed to take the bed and he didn't even attempt to haggle me down from the £40 price tag.

The prospective buyer was a builder and, because he was working on a big job where he wasn't getting paid until tomorrow, he asked if he could pop round tomorrow night with the money.

He was happy to return and collect the bed then but as he had his van with him, he wondered if he could possibly take the bed now. As his lad was so excited, I agreed and, with a tear in my eye, I helped him lug the Formula 1 Racing car outside and secure it on his van.

Off he went, with his lad beaming in the passenger seat, proudly looking back at his new acquisition, the best present he had ever had from the best dad in the world.

Inevitably, the builder didn't pop round on Monday with the money. Or Tuesday. So I summoned up the courage and rang him at home. His daughter told me 'My Dad says he's working in Cleethorpes on another big job and isn't coming back. Ever.'

I fleetingly contemplated tracing the gentleman to his home address and demanding what was rightfully mine. I thought better of it when I remembered how the burly builder had broken my middle finger with his very firm handshake.

Then I remembered the look on his son's face when he walked in and saw the Formula 1 Racing car cunningly disguised a bed, so I put it down to experience and thought

'That was the best £40 I ever spent.'

Im confused.

Arsenal are playing like Chelsea.

Manchester City are playing like Brazil.

Manchester United are playing like Manchester City.

Chelsea are playing like Northwich Victoria.

Tottenham are playing like Wigan Athletic

Derby are playing like Watford.

Chelsea players are haranguing match officials like Manchester United.

Emmanuel Adebayor is playing with the swagger and arrogance of Thierry Henry.

In fact, I am so confused I am taking a day trip (and prawn sandwiches) to the Emirates Stadium next Sunday to watch Arsenal versus Sunderland.