Tag Archives: Shoeless Joe Jackson

Football’s Shame

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Football has had many shameful moments. Enoch West, a local man (I say that as a resident of Nottingham for the last 37 years) was a great example of one of football’s villains. Born in Hucknall, he played professionally for Sheffield United before transferring to Nottingham Forest for a fee of £5. He was the first player ever sent off whilst playing for Nottingham Forest and in 1915, playing for Manchester United,  was convicted of match fixing. Four United Players and four Liverpool players were banned. West refused to admit his wrongdoing (possibly because he was wrongfully convicted) and his ban was not lifted until 1945 – a thirty year ban being the longest in Football League history.

For an American parallel, look to the Chicago Black Sox (not only a racist recasting of the White Sox name, but a crime against orthography) and “Shoeless Joe” Jackson. Of course, they have made films about that, but Enoch West has never, as far as I know, appeared on screen.

I love the history of sport, it’s just a shame that modern sport is so tawdry and diminished in comparison. The money is bigger but the characters are not the same.

Enoch West was banned for 30 years, Jackson was banned for 105. Balogun was reprieved before the ban was served.

Today, in contrast, Forest just announced they were selling Elliot Anderson to Manchester City for £115 million. Inflation of a high order indeed.

FIFA also announced the shortest ban in football history today too. Donald Trump got in touch with them to tell them that he didn’t think the offence that earned a red card, and a one match ban, for USA player Folarin Balogun was a foul.

Donald Trump is, of course, an oracle on all things, including the rules of football. And Gianni Infantini, after surviving many investigations for corruption, is an expert at being in the centre of controversy.  Trump has already had a meaningless “Peace Prize” awarded by FIFA, isn’t he just being greedy by demanding they re-write the rules to suit the USA national team?

The trouble isn’t whether it was a foul or not, or whether the ref was right or not, it’s that football has made it look as if it is open to corruption, that if does not back up its referees and that the USA, if it does pull off a fairytale ending and win the World Cup, will forever be remembered for controversy.

We might have to start using an asterisk again, like they did for Roger Maris and his batting record.

 

Phlebotomy Friday. Again.

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I woke several times during the night and at 5.48 decided it wasn’t worth going back to bed as the alarm was set for 6.30. This allowed me to have an unhurried breakfast, a reflective cup of tea and a few minutes answering comments. What it didn’t allow, was a parking space when I went for my blood test.

Parking has been getting tighter down there, and this wasn’t a total surprise, though it in’t normally full by 7am. It is supposedly a car park for visitors only, but I’m not sure this is true. When they first made it free they had a staff member on the entrance checking that you were a visitor. Since that check has been abandoned it has been steadily more difficult to find parking. The cynic in me, seeing a variety of clues inside the cars, and seeing drivers dressed in NHS uniform, tends to think the staff are ignoring the notices and taking the spaces meant for visitors.

The other part of me, the part that wants to believe they are all heroes and angels, doesn’t want to believe it. “Say it aint’ so, Joe!” my inner, innocent, self cries out.  However, when I think back to the times I have been in hospital, including the time I was left glued to the bed by dried blood despite a request for help, I do start to wonder. If they are capable of leaving me stuck to my bedding, they are certainly capable of stealing my parking space.

I will, however, cut them some slack, because they generally do a good job and it’s a lovely day. The sun is shining, there was minimal ice on my screen this morning and the Robins were singing in the hospital garden.

The blood test, performed with the panache odf a world class fencer, took mere seconds. Touché, you could almost hear her cry.

And now, having got home in time to write a post, I will go to work.