TSLR053 by The Seagull Love Review

TSLR

The Albion Fanzine TSLR054 December 2013

HAVE YOU BOUGHT ANY OF THEM SHARES FROM DICK KNIGHT THEN?

Yeah, I was going to buy some but my Financial Advisor said I’d be better off investing in a Pulled Pork Glazed Bricohe

£1

Inside: Boardroom Politics Spill Over The Amex Christmas Party Mark Lawrenson Retrospective Why Withdean Was Like Vietnam

the TSLR SHOP

Albion tat boutique www.tslr.bigcartel.com

Inside TSLR054 5. What’s Hot, What’s Not 6. Calendar

TSLR054 The Seagull Love Review is an independent Brighton and Hove Albion magazine. Issue 55 / Dec 2013 The views expressed in the publication do not necessarily reflect the views of the Editors, or The Seagull Love Review. Thanks this issue to BM, BM, JT, RM, EW, ES, JS, GE, AW and TC Edited by SS and SS Artwork/Photo by SS and DL Digital Publishing by BP

tslr@hotmail.co.uk @tslr

9. Marco Van Bastard 10. Amex Xmas Do 12. The Publishing Game 14. Plight of the Seagull 15. Looking Good 18. Reviews 20. Lawrenson 24. Withdeanam 26. Bitter ‘n’ Twisted 28. Meade’s Ball 30. Carter

A great month for Albion fans as we got both wins and a bit of controversy for us to talk about. Dick Knightâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s book, and subsequent marketing, was not taken with the pinch of salt it perhaps should have, and Albion fans were quick to come to the conclusion that they would have to pick sides. Do you go for the nostalgic Knight? The man who saved us from god knows what, led us through the most trying period of our histroy and equally brought a decade of success that breathed life into the old club. Or do you go for Tony, the man with the money who built this spaceship in North Brighton. Truth is that those choices need not be made. The unproffessional overspill of some internal club politics are always a bit tasty, but shouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t breed a cavalier versus roundhead dual in our own ranks. We hope you enjoy the issue. Up The Albion! S +S

What’s Hot!

What’s Not!

Things were looking bleak for the Albion, no players, poor form, dwindling crowds. Then along came the Yellow Ball to save us. 4 games, 8 goals, 3 wins, 0 defeats and 10 points. Stats.

Build it and they will come they said. They built it, we came, but now we don’t use it. Since TSLR053, we haven’t played at The Amex Arms. Just the 25 days. We need to fill the clubs coffers. FFP.

He had his doubters, he can be an idiot, but he’s our idiot. This is dedicated to Ashley Barnes goal at Bournemouth. It was so good it was voted “better than Nandos” by his fellow team mates. Thunderous. We scored at Wigan, I repeat we scored at Wigan. Historic. Thomas, Tomaz, Tomasz Koochack.. Kusckak, the big pole in goal has been unbelievable between the sticks with some saves better than the £1 Shop Christmas sales. Keeper. Bridcutt, Orlandi, Ulloa, Buckley, Kazenga and CMS are all on the way back from the treatment table. Our hopes and dreams of Premier League football will be at an all time optimistic high, before they inevitably let us down with a series of “not match fit” performances. Return.

@BrettMendoza

A style icon, chiseled features and a humble human. Our glorious leader let us down at Wigan. Oscar Garcia opted for a tracksuit instead of his handsome blazer and slim fit chino combo. Chav. It’s an unusual occurrence, but our bench warmer, Leroy Lita is so old that he has been a sub whilst watching Darren Caskey and Jake Caskey playing football. Generations. Winter hasn’t even arrived yet, but Spanish Dave decided it be deemed ok for him to wear gloves whilst playing at Wigan. Everyone else was in short sleeves. The first player we should be ashamed of this season. Oscar should’ve substituted him immediately. Fairy. Cottoning on to the buzz of Christmas, the club have released the Brighton & Hove Xmas Jumper. A bargain at £34.99. Ipswich Town released the same one with their badge, but for £29.99. Profits

November 2013

tslr calendar

9 November Albion’s crack legal team will have been desperately disappointed to learn of Gus Poyet’s decision to withdraw his employment tribunal claim against the club. Lawyers have become the third highest earner amongst the current Albion squad following a spate of indiscretions by former managers, players and staff (Charlie Oatway was involved in a lot of them). Judging by Poyet’s quote published by the League Managers Association (LMA) to announce the withdrawal, we can reveal that the Albion must have settled out of court and shoved a load of money his way. ‘Gus Poyet would like to take this opportunity to express his sincere thanks to Brighton and Hove Albion Football Club and in particular the fans for the tremendous support received during his time as manager’. So it appears we can finally close the toilet door on this one. 13 November Though giving us guttersnipe fanzine types the exclusive first extract from uncle Dick’s memoirs in TSLR053 (woof, what an issue, eh?), publishers and authors alike won’t act so charitable for sad freesheet The Eveneing Argus and the like. Word hit TSLR Towers that the near-erstwhile local rag paid up for the exclusive ‘post-TSLR’ extracts of the formidable tome, giving the people of Brighton and Hove the inside scoop on Knight’s story. An agreemnet was made to leave juicy bits about Martin Perry out of newsprint, not that it stopped the

hacks in Southampton or wherever they’re based from printing those controversial parts. Naughty Argus we hear you cry, as rather than reflect well on the paper in a sort of shit All The President’s Men, it just soured realtions between club and DK. Not cool, Argus. Not cool. 13 November With the news that former Chairman, Dick Knight, is to offer thousands of worthless shares to supporters in a (book) token gesture aimed at generating sales of his biography, TSLR Towers is pleased to announce a new scheme too. The Seagull Love Review’s ownership scheme will be launched in early 2014 and will offer you, the valued reader, a chance to become a part owner in this very fanzine. The scheme will ultimately offer you valueless ownership in the Albion’s third favourite ever fanzine (possibly fourth or fifth). For details, simply log on to the TSLR online shop and buy something (anything) and you will be given a form so we can get hold of your contact details for future marketing purposes. If you don’t buy anything, you mean nothing to us and won’t be considered eligible for the TSLR ownership scheme. Seriously though, TSLR’s Albion Tat Boutique is open for all your xmas needs. 15-17 November Whilst we are mainly angry over the copious amount of international breaks we’ve had this season, they are at least becoming useful because SO many current Albion players

are actually internationals. OK, not that many. The best thing Latvian international full back, Vitalijs Maksimenko, has brought to the Albion is the ‘let’s go Maksimenko’ chant sung on just three occasions to far. But the Latvian played in the match against Stephen Ward’s Republic of Ireland; Gordon Greer finally made his debut for Scotland; and, most remarkably, Gary Chivers tuned out for Malta in their 3-2 win over the Faroe Islands. 22 November Brighton Magistrates will host a very interesting case on 14-15 January 2014. Former Albion player - and current fat lad Colin Kazim-Richards, will be in court over allegations that he made homophobic gestures to the Falmer crowd last season. Some Albion players are expected to be in court backing the (too much) Coca-Cola kid. In spite of Gus dropping his employment tribunal claim against us, it’s nice to see that former players are still making the club’s legal department happy. 23 November When superstar striker, Andrew Crofts, scored for Albion to earn us a 1-0 away win at UEFA Cup entrants, Wigan Athletic, it was the first time since we beat FA Cup holders for 30-odd years. The last time - according to radio show Albion Roar - came against Tottenham on 2 April 1983 at the Goldstone when Steve Gatting and Gerry Ryan scored. There’s been a lot of rose-tinted reminiscence around TSLR recently and it is amazing to

think that, for most of our lives, we’re usually out of the FA Cup by this stage of the season. 26 November Paris, Milan, New York, Burgess Hill ... That’s right, word got to TSLR Towers of a Rudolf the Blue Nosed Reindeer knitted jumpers for Christmas fools. The mighty Caribou, sporting a blue and white striped scarf, was a snip for muggy Albionites at £35 quid. An Albion badge, sewn onto said beasts scarf, was a nice touch. Until eagle eyed fans spotted a similar pullover being advertised on Champo rivals Ipswich Town’s website. We’re not so naive to think that the tat in the Albion Megastore isn’t cookie cut in a developing country for all teams in blue and white, but the Town website was selling the garment for a cool £30 ... A fiver cheaper than at Falmer. But the club aren’t ripping you off, it’s FFP OK. 28 November A TSLRite who regularly shops at Waitrose had the time of his life in the cheese department last month. After years of conversing with some of Albion’s Spanish contingent almost exclusively in their native tongue, it appears that he is now the one being courted by Albion players. Whilst our overpaid TSLRite was trying to select some after dinner material, Inigo Calderon annoyed his own wife by discussing all thing’s Albion with the part time fanzine contributor. The best bit? Well, we now know that Andrea Orlandi’s favourite

cheese is buffalo mozzarella; that Calde buys it for Orlandi at £2.50; and flogs it to his countryman for up to £6. It would appear that Inigo’s money making nous is about as good as Dick Knight’s. 29 November Best fact to emerge in TSLR Towers from this season’s Sussex Senior Cup so far? Formed 12 years before the Albion in 1889, Arundel Football Club - who lost 3-0 to our under-21 side in this season’s competition are nicknamed the Mullets. It was reported that all Arundel players must have haircuts based in the 1970s if they want any chance of making the first team. The nickname clearly has absolutely nothing to do with the high frequency of that type of fish that can be found in the River Arun. Apologies to West Sussexites, who have probably known this for years. 30 November Amazing premonition talk from Tommy Elphick ahead of the Bournemouth match in asserting that ‘Barnesy doesn’t seem to be the one scoring but a lot of the goals are coming from his knock downs and his hard work’. Pick. That. Out. TSLR

“Sporting shoulder length hair, he’s spending his fortnight in the bars of the Costa Del Sol, drinking pint after pint of Guinness laced with blackcurrant because “he likes the taste” Page 20

Marco Van Bastard A tale of two broadsheet writers, both Albion fans, is a side story to two books of differing controversy in the national local game. @FraggleMiller

t’s been an interesting couple of months for arguably the best two Albion-supporting writers around. Paul Hayward seemed nervous about the reception of his muchdiscussed book on Sir Alex Ferguson, but his association with the beetroot-faced, bitter old berserker shouldn’t detract from his bravery and achievement in seeing his task to its headline-grabbing conclusion. Hayward’s status as a lovely bloke probably helped. Nick Szczepanik, another man whose integrity is as assured as his writing, put together Dick Knight’s book, which most people knew almost nothing of until the Communist leader-style mini-posters of our former great leader’s face popped up in the Hove literary haven of City Books recently. The subsequent highlighting of the fission between Knight and the club has been a bit bitter. But in truth, it makes a wonderful change from the anodyne nature of lots of football-related autobiographies. Far better to release the story-packed book his years at the Albion deserve, albeit scratching a few egos in the process, than gloss over a period which veered between near-oblivion and ecstatic days at the speed of a bipolar Olympic sprinter. Szczepanik, in what is usually the sign of a true journalist, took a back seat at the opening talk, which was about as much fun as any launch City Books have ever laid on. Usually you hope to sneak an extra free drink out of the token they give you at these sort of events, but Knight and his family, in typically maverick fashion, had essentially put on a free bar across a set of school tables, supplying champers, wine and piles of calorific snacks. It seemed fit-

ting – a faint reminder of the time the board gave every fan a free glass of pre-match champagne at The Old Falmer, and, perhaps, a reflection of why Knight is slightly at odds with the financially savvy, streamlined operation that is the Albion these days. They’re a bit lucky the crowd was more Supporters Club than NSK, otherwise it might well have ascended into a pissed-up love-in. The talk itself was, like Knight, idiosyncratic and funny. Alan Sanders, of Albion in the Community, gently telegraphed a number of simple passes for Knight to fire back with good tales. He’s an immaculate raconteur and I’d love to share a thousand evenings of whiskey and his beloved woodbines with him, although he’d doubtless tire of my charismaless monosyllabism. Even an embarrasingly ill-advised, half-cut-uncle-at-Christmas style story about the gay hotel Robbie Savage once booked into didn’t drag. Knight has since expressed some dismay on Twitter at the club shop’s apparent refusal to sell copies, but it really doesn’t matter: those who know that Knight saved the club have bought the book in droves, and there would only be one winner if it was between him and our current board in a popularity contest. But it isn’t – a great, often-riveting Albion book shouldn’t result in anyone, bar the villains of the 90s, to be left feeling bitter. TSLR

XMAS DO at the amex @slightlysubdad brightononlyathome.wordpress.com

s the Festive Season approaches, once again I have received an exclusive preview of the latest Fly On The Wall documentary episode filmed in and around The Amex. Join us as Office Party season begins..... Scene 1 – Paul Barber’s Office (There is a knock on Paul Barber’s office door) PB: Who’s there? Marketing Assistant: Er, hello Mr Barber. I mean sir. I’ve been sent from the Marketing Department to ask you a couple of questions. PB: Come in then! (Assistant enters). Is this for the new “Meet Sir” feature on the intranet? Marketing Assistant: No, not exactly sir. It’s just – well – we were wondering why no one has had an email about the Christmas Do yet? It’s nearly Christmas and none of us know if there will be a party? PB: Oh come, come! Surely you know that after “the leak that no-one’s meant to mention” we don’t send All User emails here anymore? In fact you should know

the new communications strategy by now. I’m sure it’s been communicated? Marketing Assistant: I’m not sure any of us know, actually. PB: Well I’m sure if you go back to your cupboard, I mean office, all will shortly be revealed. (Paul Barber gives the cameraman a knowing look and winks). Scene 2 – The Marketing Cupboard just as Assistant 1 returns from seeing Mr Barber’s office (sounds of flapping and squealing) Marketing Assistant 2: Thank goodness you’re back! Look at this! Two of Churchill Square’s special flying rats have managed to get in through the tiny cupboard window! Marketing Assistant 1: Perhaps they’ve got a message? Marketing Assistant 2: Oh they’ve been leaving little messages all afternoon. Mostly over your box of used clackers. Marketing Assistant 1: Yes, but look, they’ve got tiny bits of paper tied to their legs! (The two marketing assistants chase the pigeons round for what seems like ages

before retrieving two poo-stained bits of paper) Marketing Assistant 1: Well this first one says ‘meet in the away changing room at 5.30’. Marketing Assistant 2: What does the second one say? Marketing Assistant 1: It says ‘the new communications strategy will be managed and delivered by my specially captured bred carrier pigeons. Love, Sir.’ Scene 3 – The Away Changing Room at 5.30 (A one foot plastic Christmas Tree from Poundland has been placed in the centre of the room surrounded by things badly wrapped in cheap paper. The staff and players are all gathered. Enter Paul Barber in a comedy white beard) PB: GREETINGS EVERYONE! MERRY CHRISTMAS! HO HO! (Everyone looks blankly at PB) PB: Yes, well, erm, let’s get on with it. Now it seems I have an undeserved reputation for parsimony so I thought I’d sleigh that myth – get it? – by doing the present buying all by myself! See, sir is generous! First up, Liam!

(Liam Bridcutt comes up and is given something book shaped) PB: Open it! LB: OH! “Zoopla’s guide to Stunning Sunderland Properties”. Er, lovely. PB: Yes I thought so too. Oscar, you’re next! OG: What ees these? Boxing gloves? PB: It’s so it doesn’t hurt when you hit the roof of course! Next, Tony. Dear little Tony. (Tony Bloom unwraps a copy of Mad Men by Dick Knight) TB: Paul! You shouldn’t have! Really. (Tony Bloom leaves the room while making a show of getting his phone out of his pocket) Many, many inappropriate presents later... PB: Hang on! One left? I didn’t get this! Ah. It looks like it’s from a coach company in Croydon! (He holds up a box and the terrible wrapping paper falls off to reveal a plastic turd...........) The closing credits roll to “Merry Christmas Everyone” over a scene of Gully being chased by a pair of ragged carrier pigeons. TSLR

THE PUBLISHING GAME In a controversy that would leave Max Clifford in a flurry, Albion fans have been quick to opine on the life and works of Dick Knight. In a Roundhead vs Cavalier contest, TSLR asks was it worth it?

here was once a time when TSLR was the only esteemed Albion-related publication to not be stocked on the shelves of the Seagulls’ superstore. Fanzine-hungry fans didn’t expect their favourite Brighton-related musings to be sold by the club - far better to buy them from a bellowing vendor on their approach to the stadium. That is how it should be. The same however cannot be said for the first tome to be black-listed by the Brighton board, which decided en masse to not offer up its shelf space to Dick Knight’s memoirs. Mad Man recently hit All Good Book Shops amid a flurry of controversy. Knight – the man who led the rescue mission when the Albion’s very existence was threatened – has ruffled feathers with some of the book’s contents. He refused to send the club an advanced copy. He didn’t tell anyone of his intentions to of-

fer his shares to supporters. The Albion hierarchy says it found out through The Argus exclusive. One suspects it was a calculated campaign by the disgruntled life president. With an awardwinning background in marketing, he will have known exactly what he was doing. But the fact remains – as anyone who has actually read the book all the way through (Derek Chapman please take note) – the book is nowhere near as bitter as is being portrayed. The vitriol currently dividing some sections of the Seagulls support is unnecessary. It is possible to embrace both Knight and Tony Bloom while accepting both have their flaws. They are, after all, only human. As much as we love to put out heroes on a pedestal, they are not perfect. If only they were. Knight, through an open letter in The Argus, said he was surprised at the reaction of influential figures like Chapman and Ray Bloom. Even more surprised that the board felt strongly enough about what it perceived as the misrepresentation of certain events to take the decision not to stock the book. It isn’t about the share offer. It isn’t about Knight’s opinions. Certain figures did not remember certain bits in the same way as portrayed in Knight’s book. Hugely-respected and connected Charles Sale, unfortunately still writing for the Daily Mail, suggests the disagreement came from Martin Perry

and Ray Bloom. The former may have been disappointed at the section in which Knight talks of his trusted lieutenant trying to convince him it was time to step down (Et tu, Brute? asks Knight). Bloom may not, one would imagine, like Knight linking him to the Bill Archer regime. Of course, that is speculation. It might be over something completely different. We don’t know. The book is selling well without the Seagulls’ superstore. Amazon has already asked for a second batch and Knight says supporters have, in the main, been hugely supportive of his plans to provide fans with a stake in the club. Anyone who was going to buy the book will still do so. But the fact remains that had the Albion just taken a couple of hundred copies to sell, none of this would even be being discussed. Fans would have bought the book, had a good read, possibly raised a few eyebrows and got on with supporting the Seagulls. And you can’t help thinking that might have been a better resolution for everyone involved. TSLR

The Minor

The Selling Club Word is that Bloom has told Barber to give the FFP stuff a rest for a while, but with fairplay on the horizon, could Albion resist a winter bid for Liam Bridcutt? @EdwardWoodhouse

ince the start of the current season we have had to do without Liam Bridcutt. 2 ½ years of brilliance has taken its toll. Now that he is back, Oscar is faced with a bit of a dilemma. In Liam’s absence, Rohan Ince has emerged from the background to play an increasingly pivotal role in the heart of the Albion midfield. Ince has impressed with a series of dominant performances, while others have also stepped up to the plate. Bridcutt has been the subject of failed bids in the past and will in all likelihood attract future interest. Could we do the unthinkable and sell him? Options in that area of the pitch seem to be growing. Jake Forster-Caskey has encountered something of an epiphany and has returned to first team affairs with a series of tidy displays, capped with some very smart goals. In addition, a rejuvenated Andrew Crofts – forgotten last season – is now surely one of the first names on the teamsheet. Neither Andrews nor Agustien have done a great amount due to form or injury, but both are undoubtedly very useful squad players at this level. Theoretically, the man making way for Bridcutt would be Ince, as he occupies the deepest position in midfield. However, it is important to clarify that Ince’s inclusion should not necessarily lead to Bridcutt’s exclusion. Both are clearly very gifted footballers and should be able to co-exist with one another.

More specifically, Ince possesses greater pace and height and may well end up being utilised further up the pitch. The thought of both playing together is one that should greatly excite Albion fans. The trouble faced with a club like us in the position we are in is that selling one of your best players reeks of a lack of ambition. If Barber has found it hard to convince Albionites of the realities of the modern footballing world, imagine the job he’d have justifying the sale of Liam Bridcutt. Just because we could theoretically survive without him (as we have coped without Leo and Orlandi for significant chunks of this season), it doesn’t mean we should look to sell. The Bridcutt problem is an interesting one for our club in these times. It is likely that potential suitors will renew their interest, either in January or in the summer. It is not merely a case of whether the team can cope with the footballing ramifications of losing a player of Bridcutt’s ability. Conversely, the situation should be viewed as a symbol of how far we have come. Are we in a position to turn down offers for probably one of our best ever players? TSLR

hey say “the clothes make the man” and Oscar Garcia is no exception. For many it’s old news that his resume is impressive and thorough. 14 years as an aggressively versatile player. Bouncing between roles of attacking midfielder and second striker, racking up notable success including two UEFA supercups and four La Liga wins. Moving on to coaching under Johan Cruyff, relieving Macabi’s ten year championship drought and coming into dear Albion post Poyet with strong enthusiasm. Even with this less than modest history, the common phrase of Mark Twain referenced above marks its place and thank the Lord the man can dress. Surprising as it is, it’s hard not to take notice of Garcia’s real sense of style. Sleek, crisp (even with temperamental climates) and an emphasis on cool tones of slate grey, dusted charcoal, thematic blues and black. The idea stays rooted tone on tone but things are kept interesting in subtle ways of layering, fit and unexpected texture.

It’s classic, looked at with a modern eye. Ties with coarse grains and diagonal detailing against jumper jacket combos. Even in simple options the typical black average suit is swapped for dark blue with better than corporate slim cut chinos. Usual overlooks becomes centre points in multi coloured accents and typical fabrics enhanced with slight sheens. It’s dark prep meets stark minimal. Vain and frivolous as it may seem to some, a man that puts care and attention to his own grooming tends to take the same attitude consistently to other parts of his life. An eye for detail can only be expected to bleed over to the seagulls. Possible changes and errors no matter how small will not go unnoticed and more importantly will not go unattended. Well rounded, committed and stylized. It’s about looking good and it seems that may be the same trajectory for Albion. TSLR

Sartorial Bench Just how much impact does the attire of our manager have on the fans and players? None, but there’s not enough articles in alternative football press about chinos, is there. @elysesimpson

So, 3-0 then. Pretty easy game against a very poor Blackburn side devoid of any useful qualities such as skill or passion. Considering they are losing £580 million per week or whatever it is you’d expect a slightly higher quality of money grabbing mercenaries to be on show. This money must be going somewhere. It can’t all be Rhodes’ wages. As ever I remember very little of the match (should really write these the day after the game) except for one of the clearest penalty decisions I’ve ever seen. TWO people after the game tried telling me it was debatable at best. BLOODY NONSENSE. It’s not a fair shoulder to shoulder challenge if you are three times the size, make no attempt to go for the ball and send Conway flying headfirst into the East Upper. Ince was excellent again. Looks a proper prospect. Not great at heading though, he seems to jump too early or late which I imagine is a bit of a hindrance. His (and Forster-Caskey’s) run of games in the first team has been the one positive of our injury decimation this season. I like Oscar for giving them a decent chance. Gus wouldn’t have. (Phen)

Something about this victory got tongues wagging. Perhaps it was simply the scoreline; An away win is an away win. Maybe it was a Wigan thing though? For Owen Coyle, the prancing Scotsman who tried to swap years of slick passing with industry, was sacked after the Latics lost their next pair of games after this. I wold like to think, however, that it was the nature of Albion’s performance that attrcated some well earned column inches in the nationals and left so many of us boyent for the long trip home from Lancashire. It wasn’t us at our best, but when in a phase of calm, considered passing we took on the form of Albion of old. Controlling the game and drawing agonising howls of derision from a confused home crowd they thought they were the ones who played the proper football. The Albion contingent of over 1000 were in good voice, and the stadium (an odd structure that for all it’s flaws is a little ‘different’ and features a steep, tight away bank with pragmatic stewards) held our voices for the same long periods as the players in yellow on the pitch did. Crofts’ second half goal felt as if it were coming, though those looping efforts are odd to watch live. If Conway had buried a chance from our post-goal kick off then the last 15 minutes would have been much calmer, but so it goes, and a fine away win like this showed what potential we really have this season. (Sad Man)

The most interesting aspect of our trip to Bournemouth was in establishing how stupid 12:15 kick offs tend to be. The game itself, as you would have seen live - at Dean Court or on the television - was a bit rubbish. The early kick off meant that we were forced to drink a couple of tinnies on the journey between the train station and the stadium. We arrived in that dearth of time and space between the bar stopping serving beers and the beginning of the game. On the pitch, Albion started well; Bournemouth got more into it; Rohan Ince was mesmeric; JFC gave away a sloppy free kick; and they scored. It was a bit of a silly goal to concede and Tomasz Kuszczak probably should have done better. But the Big Pole has probably earned a couple of cock ups so far this season. Second half, we were much better than the home side, but struggled to create anything clear cut in front of goal. Especially Ashley Barnesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; ridiculously good equaliser that gave us the point we very much deserved. Kind of. Weird thing post-match, some Albion bloke told me we played better against Bournemouth than we had at Wigan. Er, OK then... There was just time for a birthday shot of Jaegermeister on the way home. With that kick off time, it was still too early for shots. (Sean Bence)

MARK LAWRENSON @JemStone

t’s just after 1pm on August 6th 2011. Robbie Savage and Dan Walker are unhooking their microphones, as the first Football Focus of the season, live from the Amex, has just come off air. Round the back of the West Stand and proudly posing for photos next to his blue and white silhouette is their colleague; football pundit, commentator and broadcaster; the still imposing, but now going slightly grey around the temples; Mark Lawrenson. The jokey accusation from veteran fans, that has somehow become folklore, that he’s erased those years at the Albion during the club’s imperial phase from his memory, appear completely ill-founded as he signs autographs, laughs and reminisces about a town he had once fondly described as “football daft with gates of 24,000 on a regular basis at the Goldstone..I defy anyone not to like living in Brighton”. Lawro’s successful media career, where to put it mildly, he divides opinion, continues to flourish of course following a stab at management which like the boss who

played him in Preston’s first team at the age of 17; Bobby Charlton; was short, curtailed and with no second act. But as a player. As a player. No wonder we were football daft. Thirty five years earlier Mike Bamber, Brighton’s chairman is on a flight to Spain. His young manager Alan Mullery has just charmed the board but especially rich businessman, future Tory MP and Albion director Keith Wickenden to stump up £500K (the equivalent of £3m today) out of his own pocket to fund a signing of a player they all admitted they’d never heard of. It’s the summer of 1977, and the 20 year old central defender, Preston North End’s player of the year for the previous season, is on holiday. Johnny Giles had only recently called up the youngster for the Republic of Ireland squad and he’s in the form of his life. Sporting shoulder length hair, he’s spending his fortnight in the bars of the Costa Del Sol, drinking pint after pint of Guinness laced with blackcurrant because “he likes the taste”.

“Sporting shoulder length hair, he’s spending his fortnight in the bars of the Costa Del Sol, drinking pint after pint of Guinness laced with blackcurrant because “he likes the taste”.

Mullery, himself, has only seen Lawrenson play three times but as he hadn’t given Peter Ward, then in the middle of his 36 goal promotion winning season, “a kick in two games” he’s convinced. Bamber arrives in Spain late at night . Mark has had a few beers and later cheerfully recalls he signed a “blank contract… I believed everything he said” and had spent half his trip on long distance calls back to a member of Preston’s board asking whether he should sign for the newly promoted second division club. His own stepfather. Bamber closed the deal there and then. When he visits the Goldstone a few days later for a fitness test. He fails. The doctor tells Mullery he’s convinced he’s a diabetic. All that blackcurrant of course. He was announced to the press later that month. “He is only 20, big and strong and will make his mark in a big way. The thought of spending that sort of money on an unknown does not frighten me” said the bullish Mullery

. Lawrenson made his home debut alongside fellow Preston signing and future Cup Final goalscorer; Gary Williams; against Ron Atkinson’s Cambridge United. Lawrenson was an ever present in 1977/78 and in 3 further glorious seasons with him at the back, its no coincidence with that Albion progressed to finish in their highest league positions to date. These were also my formative years as an Albion fan which colours my judgement but i remember his 6ft plus presence, his command at the back, the excitement when he effortlessly strode past opponents going forward. I remember his tache, I remember his hair. There’s a curious anecdote by a mate of Peter Ward in his biography recalling that late 70s rite of passage for bored players seeking to impress with what today would be a lurid tattoo “Mark was in digs with a chap called “Dinky” Doo and his wife Kay who was a hairdresser. Mark took the plunge and had a perm”

And those of a certain age will debate for hours his merits in the all time Albion player league versus that other contender; his fellow permed rival Ward. I have sadly had these arguments into the night but its hard not to concur with Alan Ware from Albion Roar who argues that Ward left Albion for European Cup winners; Nottingham Forest where ultimately he struggled, didn’t establish himself as a first team regular returning to the Goldstone for a disappointing loan period. Lawrenson conversely left the Albion, with Bamber making a healthy million pound profit, for European Cup winners Liverpool and flourished. His partnership with Hansen brought numerous league titles and silverware. Shall i go on ? Its 2013; Mark is sporting a grey beard making faces at Mark Chapman, making weak jokes at the expense of Spurs and pouting on Match of the Day 2. I hadn’t really thought about Lawrenson as a player and the Albion for many years. He’s had few if any descen-

dants. Gordon Greer; a solid central defender who has adapted well to both Gus and Oscar’s play out from the back style so successfully he’s managed to transform of all things a Scottish defence, but he rarely ventures past the half way line with confidence. Danny Cullip ? Guy Butters ? All very solid. Very very solid. Last month at Blackburn Rovers, in amidst an unlikely victory, there was one brief moment overlooked by some. A commanding strong tall young holding player won the ball with ease, stood up and strode away from the penalty box. He picked up speed, looked up, past one player, past two and shook off opponents and still kept going . Now over the halfway line …he inevitably lost the ball. Its taken a while, but Albion’s young ex Chelsea No.38 might, just might. Perhaps even Lawro, in his pundrity autumn, would notice and recognise in himself a certain Rohan Ince. TSLR

Withdeanam We all the love the new fans, they’re all part of the fun, but a darkness can descend when something triggers a Withdean vet. @NotWorthThat

“H

ow many Vietnam War veterans does it take to change a light bulb? You don’t know? Of course you don’t know. YOU WEREN’T

THERE.” So goes a popular American joke. By what, the humble TSLR reader may ask, has that got to do with Brighton? Has TSLR really run out of relevant topics to discuss that it needs to delve into the world of disastrous military campaigns? Was the Albion’s own terrible end to last season not enough? Could the author of this piece not have milked the horror of the Palace defeat for just a week longer? Confused? Well read on my dear reader, reader on. Because the Albion faithful has imagined its own Vietnam. Long-suffering supporters have established their own historical stick with which to beat new comers and new generations. And its name is Withdean. Amid crowds of 26,000 at the Albion’s shiny new home they sit, huddled together in two and threes, diluted by the masses of come Johnny-come-latelies but detectable by their 1,000 yard stare. The Withdean veterans. Faces pruned by years of over-exposure to driving winds and torrential rain. Optimism chased from their souls by seasons of mediocre football. Looking forward to forthcoming away games when they will get to stoically stand on an open terrace and prove their commitment to the cause. Pre match they hunt the concourse for wooden sporks like vultures scouring the African grasslands for the carcass of an unlucky gazelle or zebra – not realising or not able to accept the fact that even if they found the long-since departed pre-match cutlery,

there are now no chips to eat with them. Like the soccer casuals of the 1980s they test supporters with loaded questions. While the would-be face-stompers of Liverpool and the north asked travelling Seagulls for the time, hoping to detect a southern accent, the Withdean veterans are more subtle. Theirs is a language of obscure loan signings and long-since forgotten results. “That centre forward reminds me of Sam Williams,” they utter. “Remember him?” Even a second of hesitation betrays the target’s lack of pre-Amex credentials, like a child unwrapping a crap present on Christmas morning trying to mask their disappointment to save their parents feelings. One second is all it takes. You are tagged as a newcomer and you opinion is rendered immediately unimportant. Nobody, not even the Withdean veterans, longs for a return to the Seagulls’ ramshackle temporary home. They just want acknowledgement. Acknowledgement that They Were There when times were bad and the future was bleak. Acknowledgement that the luxury you enjoy would not have been possible without their suffering and sacrifice. They are like the cursed crew of The Mary Celeste, with Withdean cast in the role of the abandoned trading ship. Nobody knows quite what happened to the Withdean regulars but we know they went somewhere. Sailing the metaphorical high seas of lower league football, forever damned by a past which continues to shape their future. And, if you don’t understand any of this, it is probably because you weren’t there... TSLR

â&#x20AC;&#x153;The subsequent highlighting of the fission between Knight and the club has been a bit bitter. But in truth, it makes a wonderful change from the anodyne nature of lots of football-related autobiographies. â&#x20AC;? Page 9

WEMBLEY NIGHTMARE

The international break becomes an international breakdown for our man in north west London

y contribution to TSLR and the clatter of my rattle on the North Stand have both been silent of late due to a particularly nasty dose of a disease rarely encountered outside the tropics. I have lain in a delirious state sweating and freezing by degrees with little notion of the world about me. I dreamed a gallant Knight saved holy Albion from destruction. Did an angelic visitation reveal it or did I simply fall asleep reading again? Upon recovery I found myself facing the dreaded international break and in a desperate attempt at a live football fix found myself marching down Wembley Way for the inevitable disappointment that is England. Not just this but I had also promised to treat my girlfriend for her constant attention at my bedside during my illness. The PVC nurse’s outfit had been the deciding factor, whether real or imagined through my delirium. Man cannot be a slave to two masters it is said but on this occasion I was a slave to three. I am an Albion supporter with strong feelings about the corporatisation of the beautiful game and want to surround myself with familiar faces ranting and praising in roughly equal measure. An England game is therefore a compromise at the best of times but adding my girlfriend to the mix was probably unwise. Unfortunately I fell out with each of my masters even before a ball had even been kicked. First to confuse and perplex me was our darling Football Association. Their 150th anniversary being marked by a showdown with Germany I can only applaud the attempt to address the elephant in the room with a programme article on the First World War. In an attempt at Anglo-German detente the subject of the 1914 kickabout in no man’s land was considered a suitable subject for examination. However, within a couple of paragraphs the spin machine was kicked into top gear, baldly

suggesting the impromptu contests were a vindication of the football authorities’ decision to continue competitive fixtures in wartime. Sitting in the national football superstore brought visions of grubby tommies and their Germanic counterparts waving branded plastic flags with the teams preceded by pompom girls and foam mascots stepping gingerly to avoid unexploded ordnance. The second aspect of the proceedings I found difficult was the extensive presence of the military to accompany the national team. A number of burly uniformed characters carried extremely large flags around the pitch as the crowd characteristically and unsportingly drowned the opposition anthem whilst roaring God Save the Queen. Now there was a time when the involvement of the armed services extended only so far as a marching band, possibly leading the crowd in a rousing rendition of a popular tune. It was the equivalent of the curtain up bell at the theatre, calling late drinkers to their seats. This is a tradition well worth reviving in my opinion. The Band of the Coldstream Guards were not to be denied entrance to the hallowed turf even as England celebrated their historic World Cup victory. My third, and most serious problem, was the attitude of my partner to my curmudgeonly grumbling. I did try and explain that a man who writes and tweets under the moniker Bitter‘n’Twisted must have his critical faculties honed at such temples of misery but my entreaties fell on deaf ears. I won’t describe the following desperate 90 minutes, suffice to say mid table Brighton remain my one, only and abiding passion. If you find me embracing my fellow supporters any time soon you will now understand why. TSLR

@Bitter_nTwisted

“I’ll write to the club about this Lad” A curse of the off-duty footbal fan is the feeling that you can act scout at any match you happen to be at. Sunday League, Conference South, Barcelona B ... Whatever

f I were in charge I wouldn’t hire me for roaming the globe and watching football matches, but this weekend I sat through two and wrote pretend notes with an air-made pen on an imaginary notebook, all for Oscar’s justifiably sneering perusal, if I had the courage to send to him by gas pigeon. Twas a trip to Barca just had and it was a brief delight. I’m used to airlines squeezing me in and measuring the width and weight of my slightly grubby hand luggage, but this time it was a BA flight I’d booked and climbed aboard, mostly for flying with my brother who’s used to, and tacitly insistent upon, classier methods of travel than the partly-fuelled barrel with wings I normally mount.

A free cold croissant with cheese on the way there and a pair of falafel wraps on the return pleased me enormously. Bestaggered I was over this funded generosity and also quite moved by the pilots’ appearance on disembarkation to wish us all a gentlemanly all the best – the sort of decency, I like to think, that grants said flyer the right to disappear to a bar in any country, still in uniform, and coerce with simply a wry smirk and his stripes the nighttime attentions of whomsoever he fancies, along with a free parcel of Tesco Finest Mushroom Leek and Gruyere Parcels as a leaving gift from said bed or Prize Sudoku partner. The trip was for 24 hours or so. The start painfully early and the weather bitingly cold. But what a beautiful city it was, its Christmas decorations dazzling to revere and in such elegant conflict with the single 9-bulbed thread of lights I once saw on a leafless oak to total the celebratoriness of a North London Park I used to pass through daringly morning and night – clearly BA were not on the design committee. And what a football spectacle it was our fortune to see with self-owned eye – with the aid of Specsavers goggles on my red-nosed self. Little point speaking of the wonder of Barca themselves, those gods in boots, but by all the heavens I’ll cherish the moments of watching Iniesta effortlessly swerve throughout and dominate a forward third forever.

My report to Oscar will be on Barca B vs Las Palmas, a game played 45 minutes – a gentle pint’s worth of time - after the kings had handed in their crowns, and carried out in the Mini Estadio just seconds away from the Nou Camp. At one end the Las Palmas fans, perhaps 150 of them, stood admirably singing and swirling woollen garb to hide from the cold and cheer their second division lot on against the worldbeating wannabes. I’ll tell of a feebleness of their undeveloped forms, meaning some time will be needed before they make the step up, or even a trip to the south coast, but the likes of Espinosa being a siky star in the making. And also of the possible qualities of Chrisantus on the winning Palmas side, a front man with a dart of pace, but an addiction to offside flags. His potential is apparent. As is, the Bulgarian squad player, Spas. We need a Spas in our side, I often think. And I recommend him, in spite of having not actually seen him play. Hopefully this will be an advert for my statistical game readings and player analysis much like that of Jonah Hill in Money Ball, with Oscar waiting until next winter for word of my travels and the brainless truths I uncover of teams he already knows everything intelligently about. Until then Oscar. TSLR

Meade’s Ball

Carter On ... Getting Cold Everyone has a story about ther coldest match, with brownie points for midweek games and long-gone northern grounds. Or piss floods in Barnet. @CarterBrighton

’ve been thinking about the cold quite a bit recently, mainly because it’s been cold recently. Also, TSLR tweeted a pic of a particularly nippy scene from the Goldstone in the 60s. I often went in the East Stand with my Dad at the Goldstone and watched the Albion from a very similar position. I remember many times when I just wished I could go home, even sometimes before half-time. This had nothing to with the weather though, we were just shit. I also noticed Mr Poyet’s odd reaction of throwing off his coat and gloves in anger at that Wes Brown sending off the other weekend. Imagine if it was de rigueur for managers to remove clothing every time they saw something shit happen on the pitch; Tony Pulis would be constantly naked. As well as causing my physical presence at Albion games to decline, my move to the Midlands has also seen a decline in temperature. I struggle to deal with the cold and spend a lot of time just walking around rooms at home and work, a bit like an ineffectual lone striker. It’s clearly not as brass monkeys as it was last Saturday at Wigan. In their match report, the Wigan Observer were moved to mention that ‘Latics lost to Brighton at a freezing DW stadium’. Incidentally, it was in the North West in 1891 that one of the ‘coldest’ ever matches was played. Blackburn took a trip up the road to Burnley in heavy snow, went three down in the first 25 minutes, threw a few punches and left only their goalkeeper on the pitch to

continue the game, which was promptly abandoned. Apparently, the game was only allowed to go ahead in the first place as Burnley had developed a revolutionary system of forcing dozens of sheep into tunnels beneath the pitch, which became known as undersoil bleating. Details of the actual football are sketchy, but the most notable cold Albion match I can recall was against Barnet at Underhill one Boxing Day. It was freezing, I ate an undercooked sausage and discovered the reason why it’s a bad idea to have a bin in a gents toilet beside terracing. At least the flood of piss in my trainers as the bin was upended provided momentary warming relief. Checking the annals (I said annals) of North Stand Chat, it seems this one also sticks in the mind of others. Looks like we won courtesy of Gary Hart and Paul Watson may have missed a penalty. It also seems that this was all back in the day that a certain Scott McGleish played for Barnet - what a wanker. It’ll be a cold day in Hell before I let that one drop. TSLR

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Like the cursed crew of The Mary Celeste, with Withdean cast in the role of the abandoned trading ship. Nobody knows quite what happened to the Withdean regulars but we know they went somewhereâ&#x20AC;?

Page 24

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