The Roaring begins in earnest

I caught myself wondering if the Roar’s dip and wobbly form on the back of the historic undefeated run was just another piece in big Ange’s plan. They’d broken the record, they needed to ease up and it was the optimum time for it to happen – minimal impact on league standing and attention drawn to another tantalising run in to the league’s climax.

They have returned though. In full flight. The demolition job on The Mariners in their coastal home and destruction of Wellington on their imposing homeground were excellent demonstration of what the boys from Brisbane are capable of.

The 3-2 scoreline against Melbourne Victory last night made it sound like a closer game than it was. The second half was a bit nervous, the crossbar rattled and Harry had another great game, but he can’t carry a club on his own. In sharp contrast the Roar proved that teamwork and having more than one or two playmakers on form can have a devastating effect. Their want to play entertaining football could have cost them points, but it made the game the better for it. It’s the reason I love to watch them play. The record-breaking season continued with Murdocca’s notching his 132nd jersey and Berisha goal tally, more than any Roar player ever has in a season. I love watching that guy celebrate a goal. Loves his football, his role and this club. He’s mad as fuck and great for Brisbane.

The Roar’s return to well-oiled machinery leaves them in an excellent position for the League and to take a run at Asian Champions football. Whether this was the long term plan or an example of their incredible ability to dig themselves out of deep holes – its more genius from the big Greek!

Hail, hail Postecoglou.

Brisbane Roar’s Winner’s Model

I’d hoped this year’s W-League Grand Final would end the same way me ‘n the wee yin’s first Grand Final together did. It was the inaugural W-League (2008/2009) and Brisbane Roar, our local team won. 2 goals to the good if I remember right. It was the wee yin’s first big game, she was five.

By half time we’d moved seat three times, bought a flag, had fish and chips, and been to the toilet twice. In the second half I managed to convince her to stay on the Ballymore’s grassy bank. She was so busy waving the flag, she missed the pitch insurgence. Technically, it was a half-nudey streak behind the goals. I was very glad she did. Explaining off-side was tricky enough. We stayed till the very end. Watched the ticker tape canons go off and the Roar girls jump up and down. It was a lot of fun. We still have the flag.

This year was a different story. I watched it on TV on my own. Canberra United won 3-2. The lassie Heyman, finished her Golden Boot winning season with another two. You can watch highlights and get all the facts and figures and a report somewhere else .

So the Brisbane Roar women’s team were runners up. Disappointing but not devastating. It’s their remarkable consistentcy which should be attracting the lioness’s share of attention. They’ve appeared in all four W-League Grand Finals and won it twice. There is a depth of quality in the squad. They play positive, attacking and stylish football. They really are the team to watch.

But there’s something a little extra special in what they’re doing. Consistent team selection, competition for places, the sought after mix of youth and experience, a good coach with a sensible head on him, it’s all there. Curiously, it sounds like I’m describing the men’s team. Coincidence? There’s more to this. It could just be something in the water, but we should be asking questions about what the Roar are doing right with their teams.

The wee yin’s interest has diminished. Technically it’s disappeared. My hope alone remains. She’s a violin player now. Bought one with her own money. She likes the odd kick about in the garden. She’s been waiting ages to tell me about her lack of interest. Didn’t want to let me down, because she was worried I’d be heart-broken. I am, but don’t tell her.

Like a Bob Dylan record

In August last year, the Scots won the Homeless World Cup in Paris. Its the second time they’ve won it. In the final they beat Mexico 4-3 in front of a healthy crowd. It’s a brilliant tournament. It raises awareness of issues around homelessness, it offers those who participate an incredible life-changing experience and the football is frequently spectacular. 64 national teams of homeless players took part in 2011, 8 more than took part in the tournament I volunteered for in Melbourne 2008. Armed with a press pass, I watched almost all of the games (a number of them with Martin Flanagan from The Age). I cheered Scotland through to the semi’s including a quarter final victory over the auld enemy and challenged Craig Foster on his vitriolic views on Scottish football. I also went to a presentation by social entrepreur, President and co-founder of the Homeless World Cup, a fellow Scot, Mel Young. Like the football played at the tournament, he’s sharp, grounded and inspiring.

The contemporary game in Scotland is often seen to be the opposite. Considering one of our most prominent clubs developed the notorious ‘anti-football’ style of play, the view is understandable. It would be easy to think the Homeless Team’s victory was the culmination of the country’s international footballing success, but the times they are a changing.

The country’s representatives at European level fell over the first hurdle (one Glaswegian club went out of the CL and the EL in the same month), but given a second bite one club, Glasgow Celtic, made a game of it, recording a embarrassmentless win and three draws against 2009/2010 winners Athletico Madrid, Serie A League leaders Udinese and Rennes, a team one point from third in the Ligue 1. Better yet, a young player from the same side, James Forrest, is included the group of 13 players on a FIFA list of youngsters to watch in the world.

Despite the perspectives offered in a less than objective press, the Scottish game is gathering some strength again. Instances of instrumental Scottish players in the EPL sides are on the rise and there are presently over 60 Scottish players playing in Championship sides. The game needs some room to breathe though and the doom and gloom brooded on at the SFA and the SPL is only apparent because they refuse to look at the bigger picture. Two major clubs may face administration, but it is not because of the state of Scottish game. On the contrary, it is down to greed and very poorly managed finances. In the case of Glasgow Rangers, their flagrancy amounts to financial doping administered by a greedy former Chair exacerbated by his successor.

If the game in Scotland was ever allowed to progress free of the nonsense and the bile and the Politics (and the politics) and draconian, sectarianism double standards, they might meet with the success of their Homeless World Cup counterparts. Do not mistake me for Ally McLeod here, but they would fare better than they have in the past. The times, they should be changing.

Maybe give a guy a break

The Roar have faltered. It had to come. Squad stretched thin, everybody else picking up their game. A few defeats were inevitable. Granted, no one expected five on the bounce, but haven’t they’ve been getting stick for it?
Ange Postecoglou, hailed a genius for his man management and passing game, the man who coached his side to a 36 game undefeated run, is being roundly criticised for eh, not having enough tactical nous, or for insisting they continue to play a brand of football that has drawn much-needed attention to the sport in this country (other than for signing EPL past-its); a style of play which has arguably raised the standard across the competition. If he really is so singularly dimensional in his game strategy would he have gotten them through a Grand Final, toilet lid in hand, or onto eclipsing the Australian sports code undefeated record?

I like theRoar.com. I like it a lot. It’s smart, sharp and on the money. As Australian sports opinion and press go, it’s as comprehensive, entertaining and insightful as the ABC’s Offsiders. Maybe more so. I even agree with some of what Athas Zafiris has to say in his most recent article (above).

My response, as a local Brisbane Roar fan, is to say that this is the time for us to stand behind our team. The Brisbane Roar will come good. They will get better. They’re are a lot of good, young players there and room for a couple of signings.

My response, in terms of the code, is while the composer is only ever as good as the orchestra, Ange has been getting a rare tune out of his players for long enough that I think he deserves a wee break. The sports press in this country is too often quick to turn on perceived failure, I include theroar.com on this occasion. Performances over the season count, not just in the last few games. The boys have risen to the occasion more than once for the coach and they will do it again. Any football fan knows this.

In trying to rationalise your bewilderment Mr Zafiris, you may, like the Brisbane Roar strikers of late, have missed your target. I’m sure you’ll be firing them in before too long too.

Brisbane’s Roar

It’s been a while since I arrived at this, my football fiction blog. I blame the PhD. An irony maybe; it was the PhD which led to the blog’s Christopher Nolan style Inception.

Before I get back into the football fiction, I want to flag the Roar’s momentous win last weekend. While not my favoured club, they are my local team. I will never, not ever, be part of their fan club, perhaps naively, named the Orange Army, but I am a fan of their football.

Under the guidance of the hugely talented Coach Ange Postecoglou, this team of youngsters and journeymen play scintillating, sharp-passing football. They’ve been doing it for close to two seasons, which is maybe why they are so good at it. Better still they will continue to do so. Their crisp, fluid, often one-touch, attacking game echoes the Spanish national side’s stylish football. They play till the final whistle (seriously) and are always looking to score goals regardless of whether they’re five in front or one behind. Probably why match attendances often rival and surpass those of the ‘established’ Australian ‘football’ codes.

A run of 36 games without a loss, means the Roar have broken the previous Australian professional sports team defeat-free run. A fuckin mouthful, isn’t it? Notions of the previous record are equally hard to swallow though. Held by Eastern Suburbs, a Sydney based rugby league team in 1937 (or something like it – I care little for precision in the details) the record was based on a mix of draws, far more prevalent in pre-War League matches, and wins. So there need not be criticism of the Roar’s run in terms of its make-up. They have not been beaten.

The run benefits more than the team or the history books. The Roar, their coach and the player’s collective efforts, have raised the sport’s still remarkably relatively fledgling status in a country where some people still call football soccer. In stretching their opponents, they have forced a reach for a higher standard in the game. Melbourne and Sydney’s signing of players like Kewell and Emerton respectively (despite the decline in the quality of their individual game) speaks to the desire to improve. This of course benefits the most important people, those paying to watch.

The A-League is at last worth watching for its quality and not out of an obligation to support the local game. It’s great to watch and the punters are getting value for money. That’s more than can be said for at least half the Leagues in Europe.

Meet the man behind Megs

This blog, as intermittent as it may seem (for the moment – due to how ridiculously busy I am) is all about football fiction. Recently I had a (digital) chat with Neil Montagnana-Wallace, co-author of the Megs Morrison series, I thought it would useful to have a wee look at what he had to say on the back of the fifth book in the series being published. I’ve interviewed him before, for the second book release, if you feel like it have a look at what he had to say then
Wonder Strike is my favourite book of the Megs series. In terms of its combination of the elements – the football, informal educational and tackling moral issues – its easily the most refined and sophisticated. So that was where I started.
tsg: It must be pleasing to finish the series on a high note, but what ‘s it like finishing it? Are you done with Megs? Will we see ever see him again?
NMW: Thanks for the compliments, I am proud of the fifth book. Megs is almost writing himself! It was a great joy to tie up the fifth book and also a bit emotional – we planned on a five book journey, and here it is! That said, future editions can still be written, but for we’re going to concentrate on communicating with the world that Megs is out there for them, and five books is enough for that. But you never say never, do you??
And we are developing a TV product for Megs which is exciting. We might have pressed ‘pause’ on the books for Megs, but that doesn’t mean writing for Megs has stopped. Script writing is a whole new world with a whole new set of parameters to understand … Megs’s next unsettling challenge is underway …

tsg: There’s so much in the series, but is there anything you feel remains left unsaid as far as Megs is concerned?
NMW: At this stage, nothing remains unsaid in Megs’s world, but ‘life issues’ come out of blue all the time as we all know, so I don’t believe there is a finite amount of things we can write about with Megs. But we also don’t want to draw blood from a stone, so we’ll let it rest for now.

tsg: Looking back now, hindsight benefits and all, if you had a do over in hand, are there things you would change? (I believe every author wants to change what they’ve written after its published.)
NMW: I’d change how long it took me to write the first one!! I learnt a lot through that process in terms of structure, flow and story architecture and that helped produce subsequent books more efficiently. However in terms of the end product and story, I have to say that I wouldn’t change any of it. It’s the journey!!

tsg: Are there plans for more football fiction from Bounce Books?
NMW: At the moment there isn’t, but that’s not to say there isn’t a place for it. We’re just going to concentrate on what we have with Megs for the moment.

tsg: Writers say each book teaches them something new. Did you find that with Megs?
NMW: The research for each book certainly taught me new things. For example, I didn’t know anything about the refugee struggle in adapting to Australian life (book 3): I had no idea what it was like to be a young Muslim woman playing football (Book 2); and I didn’t know much about the psychological issues surrounding bullying and the ‘ugly parent’ syndrome (book 5 – see also u f n c’s ). I enjoy that part. In terms of the writing, with practise comes proficiency, and I learnt that as I went.

tsg: Do you think there are additional gains from writing a series?
NMW: It gives a chance for readers to grow with the characters – and it also breaks up what is essentially a 200,000 word book into five much more manageable 40,000 books!

tsg: When you started out did you see yourself contributing to a genre? And do you think there’s value in cataloging the books as football fiction?
NMW: No… I really haven’t considered any cataloging issues. I just wanted to write cool books that people liked!

thesimplestgame would like to thank Neil for his time, his answers and his books. Obviously we’re made up with Mark Schwarzer’s involvement – he’s one of the best keeper’s in the world at the moment. If you’re interested you can buy the books at Megs Morrison’s site

Achilles

Carol Ann Duffy, the Scots born poet laureate, is a football fan. She is many other things obviously – an amazin’ poet, an award winner and a professor of contemporary poetry at Manchester University. Importantly (I think in terms of this blog) her old man had a spell as the Stafford Rangers manager.

She made the papers recently, all the papers – tabloids and broadsheets – because she wrote a poem about the boy flown to Finland because he hurt his foot.
Here it is…

Achilles

Myth’s river – where his mother
dipped him, fished him, a
slippery golden boy flowed on,
his name on its lips.

Without him, it was prophesied,
they would not take Troy.

Women hid him, concealed him
in girls’ sarongs; days of
sweetmeats, spices, silver songs …

But when Odysseus came, with an
athlete’s build, a sword and a shield,
he followed him to the battlefield,
the crowd’s roar,

And it was sport, not war,
his charmed foot on the ball …

But then his heel, his heel, his heel …

Its feckin beautiful innit?

Megs and the Wonder Strike

Ages ago, I interviewed Neil Montagnana-Wallace. He’s written a series of  about a footballer called Megs Morrison. It’s for the young, young adult market. Neil reckons 7-13 yrs.

Recently I reviewed the final instalment in Bookseller and Publisher magazine and wanted to add my thoughts to my football fiction blog. Here’s a couple of excerpts from the review…

Engaging dialogue, action-packed plots and an imaginative take on social issues make Megs Morrison a crowd favourite.

Apart from the dream sequence in the opening, this is the writer/footballer’s best work. It’s sharp, it’s smart and importantly puts over the attractiveness of football and the power it has to affect people’s lives.

…tackles bullying in many guises. On and off the pitch, Megs must cope with the pressures of State squad, a stern coach, his Mum getting weird and the Simpfenator losing control. Forced to consider his football future, Megs also learns parental fans don’t necessarily make good spectators.

There is always an ‘issue’ in each of the Megs books, an old school YA moral lesson to be learned. Where the texts do well is dealing with it realistically. Its not always good and it doesn’t always end up the right way round. It’s for a young audience so most of the time it works out, but the issues, sometimes very difficult ones are dealt with creatively without the reader being hammered.

Defensively, the writing is a little flabby. It doesn’t always pick up its marker and smothers some sharp humour. The midfield engine room is strong, open and energetic. Solid characters like Megs, Coach Atti and the Morrisons family household move the ball and link well with squad members.

I feel a bit harsh saying this, but I have to be honest too. The wordiness sometimes gets in the way of the humour. And a disciplined edit on the writing would have tightened things up a bit. Fortunately everything else is working really well, so most of the minor problems are forgiven.

…underlin[es] the game’s development in Australia, particularly Women’s football, lightning-paced match exploits and intricate ball tricks are woven through a history of Rights protests from the Eureka Stockade to the UK Miners’ Strikes. This informative and entertaining series ends fittingly with its best book.

The reader learns beyond their own culture and history. Its an idea I really like. That its done through football is even better. Montagnana-Wallace and Schwarzer work hard to bring a lot to the subtextual discussion. Its something else that works well. The books are a lot of fun and are very very readable. A must for the age group, young ‘uns interested in sports or those reluctant to read at all.
Megs Morrison has booked a worthy berth on the football fiction shelf.

black diamonds – part 2 of the Andrew C Ferguson interview

A handful of years ago Andrew C Ferguson wrote a football fiction short story which featured in The Hope that Kills Us. He’s since written a good deal more fiction – you can read some of it and learn a bit about the man at Writers’ Bloc. Recently he published The Secret of Scottish Football (reviewed two weeks) which included the highly anticipated sequel. His answers were so generous, I had to split the interview. This is the second part.

the simplest game: The football seems to be a vehicle to look at a dark aspect of the country’s culture. Was this a deliberate ploy? Was it because there were things you had to say? Or did you find that the football wasn’t enough on its own?

Andrew C Ferguson: Sometimes I only find out what a story’s about when I’ve written it (which often means I have to rewrite it). But Nae Cunt was always going to be about Tam, how he manages to deal with the pressures of his talent, and his relationship with Goggsy, the narrator. And of course it’s also about the Scottish condition: the heavy reliance on alcohol, the lack of confidence in ourselves, and that black diamond of our humour.

tsg:You’ve also written a sequel. What made you come back to this story?
acf:Actually, this will sound really big-headed, but other people did! The other guys in Writers’ Bloc (the spoken word outfit behind Bloc Press) were wanting me to put together a chapbook of my stories, and I kept giving them other stuff, and they kept saying, why don’t you do more Fife football fairy stories? So I thought of a sequel – basically what Goggsy did next, and as soon as I had him appointed as coach to the Scotland squad, I knew exactly where it was all headed. The third story in the chapbook, The Secret of Scottish Football, was more difficult at first, but I think it turned out well – it’s a send up of all that Dan Brown conspiracy theory crap that’s about these days. I used to work for the Council in Kirkcaldy, so a whole lot of stuff that I’d been mentally filing away for years – the Monday Club, the story about Jimmy Johnstone working on the Esplanade after he retired – all came together for it.

tsg:What do you think it is about football that appeals to you as an author?
acf:Funnily enough I wrote a story about cricket too a couple of years ago which got some good reviews, but because it was about cricket it could carry a theme about the relationships between the cricket playing countries. It even got a reprint in an anthology of Muslim science fiction! When it comes to football, it’s such an ingrained part of Scottish culture that when I think of football I think of the Scottish version of it. When you play cricket in Scotland you feel like a tourist in your own country, and I know I’m wasting my time saying one of the best all-rounders I played with was a working class lad fae Methil. On the other hand, if you’re Scottish, and especially if you’re male, you grow up playing it, talking about it, dreaming of beating England in the last minute of extra time in the World Cup Final with a goal that’s better than Archie Gemmill’s. If such a thing is possible. So if you want to write something set in male Scottish culture, it’s a no brainer, really.

tsg:There’s a theory that men prefer reading non-fiction over fiction – it’s been posited as a reason for the dearth of football fiction. Another is that footballers are better at expressing themselves with a ball than a pen, why do you think there is so little fiction about such a popular sport?

acf:I think that your first statement is certainly true of literary fiction, although I’m not sure it’s so true about the genres. I’m sure the success of Trainspotting can be partially traced to guys feeling comfortable with being seen with a book that everyone knew is about tough characters with lots of violence and drug-taking. Whereas they might not want to be seen reading something about relationships like the Time Traveller’s Wife, or Beyond Black, to mention two relatively recent novels which I’ve read and enjoyed. Both, incidentally, packaged as mainstream when one of them uses time travel and another is about a psychic interacting with a particularly nasty version of the afterlife.
Maybe the way to go for football is to fictionalise a real life account. The book I’ve enjoyed most in the past year was David Peace’s novel about Brian Clough’s time with Leeds, Damned United, which I thought was just stunning. It gets you inside Clough’s head and wrestling with his demons in a way that no biography could ever dare to. It was one of those books that was so good, I didn’t want to go to see the film because I didn’t think anyone could do it justice. So far as sportsmen writing their own autobiographies are concerned, I don’t think we should expect too much. As you say footballers express themselves with the ball at their feet. But any fiction that is just about football would be a hard sell. The Hope That Kills Us did well because most of its stories were really about more than football.

And there it is. The Simplest Game would like to thank Mr Ferguson for his time, his help, his intelligent answers and for the patience he has shown in the face of much pestering. There will be more interviews in the coming weeks. We’ve a few reviews and some of my PhD reserach to discuss as well.

black diamonds – Andrew C Ferguson talks football fiction

A handful of years ago Andrew C Ferguson wrote a football fiction short story which featured in The Hope that Kills Us. He’s since written a good deal more fiction – you can read some of it and learn a bit about the man at Writers’ Bloc. Recently he published The Secret of Scottish Football (reviewed last week) which included the highly anticipated sequel. His answers were so generous, I’ve split the interview into two parts. This is the first.

the simplest game: As I said in the blog your story is one of the highlights in an excellent collection of football fiction. What motivated you to write Nae Cunt Said Anythin? How did you decide on the voice?

Andrew C Ferguson: I wrote Nae Cunt… in the late 90s, and it was partly inspired by Irvine Welsh’s success. I guess I wanted to show myself I could write convincingly in the dialect I grew up with, and make it funny, while still saying something about Scottish culture in the process. To be honest I never thought I would sell it, but then the anthology came along and I got it in.

tsg: Building on the magic of football with some fairy influence and subverting it is such a brilliant idea. Could you elaborate on your mergence of two seemingly disparate genres?

acf: To be honest I’ve always seen writing stories with an element of the supernatural in them as entirely consistent with the Scottish tradition – Robert Louis Stevenson, who’s a big influence, is one example, but it’s interesting Pat Nevin in his foreword to my chapbook goes further back and cites Tam O’Shanter.
Plus I wanted to write about proper Scottish fairies, who were real bad-ass characters before J.M. Barrie and Walt Disney had their wicked way with them. The folk tales often have this idea of a fairy gift which comes with strings attached.

tsg: Ian Plenderleith said good writing about sport avoids action on the field of play as much as possible. Nick Hornby said there’s enough drama in football as it is without people needing to make up stories about it. Do you agree with either of them?

acf: I wouldn’t describe myself as an expert sports writer, but I think I agree with both of these statements. There are some good stories about a single game of football – one of George MacDonald Fraser’s Private McAuslan stories springs to mind – but the problem is you’re making something up about a dramatic incident that happens every Saturday. It’s not often, for example, that one man in a string vest is all there is between some European villains and serious disruption of New York’s infrastructure, but why read a fictional version of something that is literally played out, week after week, in its manifold plot variations at Firhill and Boghead? The answer, I think, is to take the passion that football creates, and use it to tell a story about the characters. As Nick Hornby does so cleverly in Fever Pitch, for example.

boghead

And that there is a good place to leave it for the week. In the meantime, we’d like to thank Mr Ferguson for his time, his help, his intelligent answers and for the patience he has shown in the face of much pestering. There will be more.