Shame, Truth and Justice

I think I was about 6 or 7 when I was taken to my first live football match. It was a late summer's evening and the venue was Newlandsfield Park, home of Pollok Juniors.

I can only speculate at the number of games I've seen since then, but it will run well into four figures.

Among those games there have been some great ones, some awful ones and others that have long since vanished from my memory.

One recurring theme from them all is the fact that I went home safe and well afterwards.

Ninety six Liverpool fans who attended their fixture with Nottingham Forrest on April 15^th 1989 didn’t.

Life is fragile and the unfortunate by product of that is tragedy. You shouldn’t, however, end up dead through doing nothing more sinister than attending a football match. You just shouldn’t.

I can, thankfully, only imagine what the events of April 15^th 1989 must have been like for the families of those that died at Hillsborough.

Concern when news of events at Hillsborough first started to filter through. Fear when it became clear just serious it was. And then grief, mind numbing grief, when they learned that their husband, son or daughter was one of those that wasn’t coming home from this football match.

And anger too.

There’s anger with any sudden death. There’s an overwhelming sense of it being, for want of a better phrase,  just not fair. Why my loved one.

There’s a desire too to find someone to blame. Someone must be to blame, mustn’t they? These things don’t just happen.

Imagine then, if you can, when still numbed with grief you are told that those to blame were the 96 dead themselves and their fellow Liverpool supporters.

Within days of the disaster the myths started to grow.  Fuelled by a government who viewed football  fans as an underclass. Who viewed them as merely a public order issue.  Herd them along, pen them in like cattle, with things like comfort and safety very much a minor consideration; assuming they were considered at all.

You attend a football match? Then you must be a drunken thug who deserves to die.

Okay, The Sun newspaper didn’t quite the print the above but their words weren’t that far removed from it.

Their front page banner headline declared ‘The Truth’. A ‘truth’ that had Liverpool fans urinating on the police, pick pocketing the dead and pinned the blame for the disaster firmly and squarely on the shoulders of the Liverpool fans.

Their ‘truth’ was nothing more than a vicious smear that served only to convict the Liverpool fans in the eyes of popular opinion.

Even though the Taylor Report, published in August 1989, sited a failure of police control as the primary cause of the disaster public perception has remained that the Liverpool fans had to be in some way responsible for the disaster.

It is to be hoped that the report compiled by the Hillsborough Independent Panel, published today, will 23 years on finally redress that perception. Hopefully now the extent of the police’s failings and blatant cover up will be known and there for all to see.

The findings of the Hillsborough Independent Panel will not have come as surprise to the families of the dead. Nor to anyone whose knowledge of events prior, during and subsequent to the disaster has been gleaned from a source other than this nation’s disgraceful tabloid press.

Today then wasn’t the culmination of the search for the truth, but rather an official confirmation of it. Twenty three years is a long time to wait for that confirmation. Hopefully the wait for the justice that should inevitably follow will not be as long in coming. 

The Black Cloud

It’s been awhile since I posted a blog entry. Previous entries have almost invariably been Beatle or Partick Thistle related. It’s with more than a little trepidation then that I turn to an altogether more serious subject matter. Yes, there are some things more important than Partick Thistle Football Club.

There aren’t many people who have stumbled across my blog so it is tempting to ask why bother blogging in the first place? The simple truth is that although I don’t necessarily have any great flare or talent for it, I find writing relaxing. Typing out a few random thoughts here and there can prove to be quite a cathartic exercise.

And that is something that I’m badly in the need of.

Now I know that I’m a grumpy sod. That’s unlikely to ever change, besides as I’m fond of telling Alison; I’m laughing on the inside.

Having freely confessed to the above I need to admit something else.

For more years than I care to remember I’ve been battling against depression, anxiety and stress related illnesses.

It’s not something that I suffer from all the time; far from it but when I do, as I am right now, it becomes incredibly debilitating.

It’s more than just feeling a bit ‘down in the dumps’ – we all suffer from that from time to time.

It’s as if a huge black cloud descends over you. That black cloud removes any kind of self esteem or self worth that you might have. Criticism is like a knife through the heart, especially when you are deliberately target.

It makes even the simplest of tasks almost unbearably hard. Social interaction becomes extremely difficult.

It’s all too easy to allow that black cloud to envelope you entirely and once you’ve let that happen then you are in real trouble.

I’m fortunate, what I suffer is very mild compared to that of others. I’ve a sympathetic and helpful GP. Medication helps, although it can often leave me feeling drained and devoid of energy, themselves symptoms of the illness in the first place.

Keeping my mind active helps too. Which is why since heading home from work early today suffering the shakes from a particularly bad panic attack, I’ve been busy working away on next Saturday’s Thistle programme.

See, this self obsessed blog entry was really about Partick Thistle all along. 

Victor Spinetti

Just the day after Paul McCartney celebrated his 70th birthday, a landmark that served only to emphasise the passage of time, a link to The Beatles' past and perhaps more significantly, to John Lennon was sadly lost with the news of the death of Victor Spinetti at the age of 82.

Spinetti’s name isn’t as synonymous with The Beatles as say George Martin but his name is written large across Beatles history all the same. He appeared in the first three Beatles films; ‘A Hard Day’s Night’, ‘Help!’ and ‘Magical Mystery Tour’.

Spinetti and John Lennon

The story goes that we have George Harrison’s mum to thank for Spinetti being cast in ‘A Hard Day’s Night’, with Harrison being attributed to have said; “You’ve got to be in all our films. If you’re not me mum won’t come and see them because she fancies you.” Harrison would also say; ”You’ve got a lovely Karma, Vic”, while Paul McCartney described Spinetti as being “the man who makes clouds disappear”.

Spinetti’s lust for life was such that it prompted John Lennon to declare, when someone offered Victor a joint, “Don’t waste it on Vic, he’s permanently stoned on fucking life.”

Victor Spinetti’s relationship with The Beatles though wasn’t just limited to staring in three of their movies. In particular he had a close relationship with John Lennon. While John occupied a bed next to a pregnant Yoko Ono in Queen Charlotte’s Hospital in November 1962, it was Spinetti that smuggled in cigarettes, Craven A rather a more exotic weed, for John.

It was Victor that collaborated with John on a stage adaptation of Lennon’s ‘John Lennon: In His Own Write’, which was initially ear marked to be performed at Glasgow’s Citizen Theatre but was in fact staged at the National Theatre in London. On the morning of the premiere a gift of a large rubber elephant appeared at Spinetti’s flat, where he and Lennon had spent much time working on the stage adaptation, complete with a note saying ‘I’ll never forget Victor Spinetti says John Lennon.”

It would be wrong, of course, to simply focus on his relationship with The Beatles when recounting Victor Spinetti’s long and successful career. He starred in over 30 films, has a string of TV credits to his name and in the theatre directed productions of ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’ and ‘Hair’.  

A popular man, his death today prompted many tributes including one from Rob Bryden who described Spinetti as “The funniest story teller I've ever met and a lovely warm man."

Victor talking about John Lennon, Hard Day's Night etc at London Beatles Day in March 2010

Mach Schau!

There is a bus driver that regularly operates on the routes that I take whose curly mullet has earned him the nickname of ‘1980s Bus Driver’. It was that very bus driver that took me into the centre of Glasgow on Sunday May 27th, but it wasn’t to the 1980s that he was taking me to. Rather to, firstly, a Club in Germany a couple of decades earlier, and from there onto Matthew Street in Liverpool a few months later.

If there is a better Beatle tribute band (and I’m still not comfortable with that label – they are so much more than that) than Them Beatles then I want to see them. The latest show by Them Beatles, if my opening paragraph didn’t provide you with enough of a clue, took them back to the early years of The Beatles with two sets. The first focused on their time in Hamburg, and the second when they became a near permanent fixture at the Cavern Club in Liverpool.

Ever the anorak, the first thing I wanted to try and establish was exactly when I was getting transported back to. Stereo, in Glasgow’s Renfield Lane, was doubling up for the night as ‘The Star Club’ in Hamburg and if Ringo was in the line-up then that narrowed the time down to either November or December 1962.

That’s where the first surprise of the evening came.

Grahame Critcher took up his normal position behind the drums but not as Ringo Starr but as Pete Best, who would be sacked as The Beatles’ drummer just before the band hit the big time. Just as he does with Ringo, Grahame, with cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth, deftly assumed the persona of Best even throwing in a couple of carefully scripted mistakes just to underline that Best didn’t live up to his name when it came to drumming.

There was a further surprise to come. Although in truth I had seen this one coming. A request on the band’s Facebook page for the loan, for the night, of a right handed Hofner base provided a major clue that four would become five and sure enough Richard, borrowed for the night from The Meatmen, played the role of unfortunate Stuart Sutcliffe for the first six numbers, ending his stint on stage by taking the mic for a rendition of ‘Love Me Tender’ before leaving the stage arm in arm with Astrid Kirchherr.

It’s this remarkable attention to detail, right down to the smallest thing; that really sets Them Beatles apart from other Beatles tribute acts. As an example, there was no alcohol in The Cavern back in 1962 so for their Cavern set Them Beatles drank nothing stronger than coca-cola.

Short of 12 hour sessions, fuelled by Preludin , it would be impossible to truly replicate the Beatle experience of Hamburg but Them Beatles came as close as it is possible to doing just that. There was a real raw, at times almost anarchic, energy to their Hamburg set. The Beatles at their rock and roll best.

                                           (Them Beatles in Rehearsal - 'Ain't She Sweet')

In what was a memorable night in so many ways it is difficult to pick out just a handful of highlights.

Clark Gilmour’s performance as John is truly outstanding, at one point performing, during the Hamburg set, with a toilet seat round his head. There’s that attention to detail again. His vocal highlights, in my opinion, coming in ‘Twist and Shout’ and ‘This Boy’.

Craig McGown gave a fantastic performance as George. ‘Roll over Beethoven’ is a long time favourite of mine and Craig does it justice. Just as he does with ‘Red Hot’ which I was hearing for the first time.

Paul McCartney was as always skilfully played by Joe Kane and if I had to list just one of his highlights I would pick ‘I Saw her Standing There’.

Grahame meantime, back to the more familiar role of Ringo in The Cavern set took the vocals for ‘Boys’ and proved that his talents aren’t just limited to the drum kit.

In truth though this was a night of one high quickly followed by another.  

After the show there was some music supplied by Joe. It’s at this point that my recollection gets a little hazy. There was certainly some beer and some dancing. Or at least what passes for dancing from an overweight, introverted 43 year old. Hell, if I was throwing some shapes it must have been some night.

Them Beatles are off to Canada next month and their travels take them to New Zealand later in the year but if you are a Beatles fan and the opportunity comes to see them then you would be a fool not to take it.

For tour dates and more information please see www.thembeatles.com

A Look Back at the Season

So another football season is consigned to the pages of the history books.

Season 2011-2012 wasn’t a vintage season for Partick Thistle. A sixth place league finish was one spot below last season’s, although the points tally remained the same. The cup campaigns meantime brought plenty of angst but little joy. 

Despite being involved neither at the top end of the division or, thankfully, at the bottom it was, as always, a season of highs, lows and frustrations.

The final game of the season at Hamilton was in many ways a microcosm of the season as a whole. Thistle played at times some excellent football but ended up with just a single point, rather than the three that the performance undoubtedly merited. This is why there is a distinct sense of frustration when it comes to analysing the events of the last 9 months or so.

So what of the highs?

Firhill and a visit of then, but not for much longer, league leaders Morton was selected by the SFL as part of an experiment into Friday evening football. It was a night that could scarcely have gone any better for Thistle. No fewer than five different Thistle players got on the score sheet that night as Thistle ran out emphatic 5-0 winners.

Christie Elliott scores one of the five v Morton (pic by Tommy Taylor)

There was a real sense of excitement and anticipation after that result but there was no fixture the following week and when Thistle did return to action the momentum had been lost slightly and they lost 2-0 at Raith Rovers while producing a pretty insipid display. 

Dens Park hasn’t been a happy hunting ground for Thistle in previous seasons. This season not one but two victories were recorded. Given the events of previous visits there, there was a distinct sense of Karma when Thistle won 1-0 in October thanks to hotly contested penalty converted by Paul Cairney. 

Dundee couldn’t claim any injustice at the end of April. Paul Cairney missed, and scored, a penalty that afternoon and bagged all three Thistle goals in the 3-0 win, becoming the first Thistle player in many a long year to score a hat-trick.

What's the score? (Pic by Tommy Taylor)

Other highlights?

David Rowson’s goal that gave Thistle a 1-0 lead at Morton in December;  and Kris Doolan’s late winner in the same game.

Goal of the season though would have to be Paul Cairney’s chip at Falkirk. A sublime finish from a player who looks destined to be playing his football at a ground other than Firhill next season.

A 5-0 win over Queen of the South at Palmerston was every bit as easy as the score suggested.

Mark McGuigan was a late arrival, signing in March but his goal celebrations at Ayr United, immortalised on youtube, quickly endeared him to the Thistle fans.

The lows?

Well, they could come under two categories, cup games and Raith Rovers matches.

It’s almost beyond belief that Thistle managed just 1 point from a possible 12 against Raith Rovers, and in that statistic probably lies the reason why Thistle didn’t finish above 6^th position. Every time Thistle played Rovers they seemed to find a new and imaginative way to lose, including a Rovers propelling the ball into the net with his hand.

When Thistle did, finally, get a point against Rovers they generously contributed the Rovers goal in a 1-1 draw themselves. 

As for the cup games, well the thought of the Berwick Rangers game still brings me out in a cold sweat. Culter on the other hand is something best discussed in therapy. Thankfully that all worked out in the end but when Archie, a real hero of mine, passed across his own 18 yard box straight to a Culter player with the score at 1-1 and with just minutes left, time stood still.

Culter - Sedatives please (pic by Tommy Taylor)

Enough of the past, on with the future which I think is bright for Thistle.

Instilling a mental toughness and a real belief in their own abilities is the number one priority for manager Jackie McNamara. If he can do that, bring in two, maybe three, new players then there is no reason why we can’t be there or thereabouts next season.

I’m excited just thinking about it. Roll on August.

C’mon The Jags.

John Lennon: The Life

I was asked at the weekend what my favourite period of Beatles music was. In truth that is an almost impossible question to answer, or at least a question that is impossible to provide a consistent answer to.  My answer will vary almost day to day depending on what kind of mood I’m in at the time and what album I’ve most recently listened to.

If it is almost impossible to pin point a period in the development of The Beatles as my favourite then it is actually impossible to provide an answer to the equally oft asked question; who is my favourite Beatle.

The chemistry that existed between the four of them was what made The Beatles so special. It may, initially, have been John’s band, growing as it did from the skiffle days of the Quarrymen, and the song writing partnership he had with Paul was nothing short of musical alchemy, but to dismiss the massive contributions of George and Ringo is to make a big mistake.  

That was the unspoken, but clear all the same, assessment of Philip Norman’s ‘Shout’, which is considered by many as being the definitive book on The Beatles.

It was then with more than a hint of trepidation that I recently purchased a copy of Norman’s biography of Lennon, ‘John Lennon – The Life’.

In ‘Shout’ Norman’s preference for John, no need to ask him who his favourite Beatle is, came through on almost every page.  It was inevitable, therefore, that he would deal with the subject of John Lennon in more detail at some point.

And detail is one thing that this entertaining book of over 800 pages doesn’t lack.

The problem is in where that detail lies, or perhaps more accurately, where it doesn’t.

Much of the detail provided on John’s formative years any Beatle fan is likely to have read elsewhere, maybe even in the pages of the aforementioned ‘Shout’.

There is little shortage of source material when it comes to The Beatles with the result that it is possible to provide a detailed account of them without the tedious task of actually doing the leg work and interviews yourself.

It would be wrong to suggest that this is what Norman did, but as an example his account of Lennon’s first marriage to Cynthia looked to be simply lifted from each of her two autobiographies, the second of which provided an altogether harsher assessment of her marriage.

The weakness in this book comes when there is less easily accessible information on Lennon’s life, in particular the later years of his, tragically short life, in New York. This was a period in his life that I was looking forward to reading about but felt disappointed with the scarcity of information after such a detailed account of the years prior.

Despite the misgivings above this is an essential addition to any Beatles fans’ library. It explores all facets of John’s personality, the good and the bad. He was in many ways a man of contradictions. Aren’t we all too some degree?

This book doesn’t gloss over his flaws. It shows John as a man of great talent and intellect but also impaired by his own insecurities. A man prone to acts of cruelty, yet also a man capable of displaying a generous heart.

In short, the success of this book is in its’ portrayal of John Lennon the man and not merely John Lennon the Beatle. 

Glasgow Comedy Festival 2012

The curtain came down last night on the 2012 Glasgow Comedy Festival, the 10^th such event, and as usual across the three week festival there was a wide variety of comedy on offer.

The Glasgow Comedy Festival has come a long way since its inception back in 2002, and is one of the biggest comedy festivals around. Rather bizarrely though many Glasweigans remain unaware of its existence even though there were around 300 shows at 40 different venues within the city.

Those 300 or so shows include the high profile, big venue, gigs from the likes of Dara O’Briain, who played two nights at The Armadilo, Sarah Millican and Rory Bremner, but also provides local acts to showcase their talents.

It’s not all Stand Up either. The first event that we popped along to was a recording of the soon to air on Radio Scotland ‘The Guessing Game’, a comedy panel show hosted by Clive Anderson, who seems to have slipped off the radar a little since upsetting The Bee Gees on TV a number of years ago.

As is the nature with this kind of thing ‘The Guessing Game’ was a bit hit and miss and to be honest I’ll not be tuning the dial on by wireless to Radio Scotland when it airs. It was though a pleasant enough way to spend an evening and thanks to the splendid Rob Rouse we were left with the equally splendid image of a drum kit made out of cats.  

We also took the opportunity to take in one of Arnold Brown’s Comedy Interviews at The Tron Theatre. It was a strange night, not least due to an injury to a member of the audience when a camera fell on them.

I’m far from convinced that Brown’s laconic delivery, which is a bit of a slow burner, is best suited to an interview format. We left feeling a bit short changed for our £14.50 (tickets booked too late to take advantage of the two for one offer), quite keen to try and catch Phil Differ’s stand up and altogether unimpressed with the world view of Dorothy Paul. A more skilful interviewer would have steered her away from the subject of Ireland and Scottish Independence.

Returning to Stand Up, the Blackfriars Basement is one of the best comedy venues in Glasgow and we took in a couple of shows, at either end of the festival, there.

First up was Jarred Christmas. The New Zealander gave a high energy performance, the pace of which simply never let up.  Jarred takes audience participation to new levels and a fantastic evening finished with Jarred stripped to the waist dancing to ‘Back in the USSR’ while we fired foam bullets at him.

Jarred Christmas

Although he is now based in Manchester, Scott Agnew has for some time been one of our favourite Glasweigans on the comedy circuit and it was his ‘Project: Couldn’t Give a Fuck’ that rounded the festival off for us.

Scott Agnew

Scott’s material, and much of this was making its debut at Blackfriars, may be close to the bone at times but one of his strengths is his engaging personality. He is an excellent, self deprecating, storyteller and while you do find yourself laughing at his stories (how could you not?) you feel real empathy with him at the same time.

Another favourite from the Glasgow/Scotland circuit is Mark Nelson and he didn’t disappoint at the Oran Mor.

Mark Nelson

A confusion with the start time meant a mad dash across Glasgow for us and if truth be told the news that there was a support act wasn’t greeted, by us, with much relish.

Kai Humphries was, therefore, an unexpected delight. It is almost impossible not to like Kai who established a tremendous rapport with the audience and more than nicely warmed things up for Mark Nelson.

A tweet from Mark earlier in the day revealed that he had been violently sick. If he was nervous, or in any way suffers from stage fright, it certainly wasn’t in evidence when he took to the stage. His performance, as always, was polished and perfectly timed. He is one of the few comedians that can have me sore with laughter simply with a well timed pause. Why Mark, a former Scottish Comedian of the Year, isn’t huge and playing multiple sell out nights at the SECC is a mystery to me.

Why Dara O’Briain is playing to sell out crowds in big venues is less of a mystery. Like Mark Nelson the night before he had me sore with laughter at times. I’m sure that it’s not, but his act seems so effortless and almost as if he has just rolled up to have a blether with people.

That almost brings me to an end in my round up of the Glasgow Comedy Festival of 2012 but I’m going to finish with one moan. In previous years a staple of our Comedy Festival menu has been the Lunchtime Comedy Chat Show hosted by the previously mentioned Scott Agnew and another excellent local talent, Des Clarke.

This year we made it a long to just one. No Scott and Des this year, instead the one we made it along to was more than capably hosted by Charlie Ross.

When I say we made it a long to just one, we did in fact head to The Corinthian on the final Sunday for one more round of sandwiches and comedy before the end of the festival only to find, after we had climbed about 8 flights of stairs, that the show had been cancelled. No mention of this on the Comedy Festival website or on their twitter feed. We at least hadn’t paid in advance but the punter in front of us had. It was a slightly disappointing note at the end of another highly successful Glasgow Comedy Festival. The countdown to next year’s starts now.