Shell shocked Brazilians and Sexy North Koreans

Well no one saw that one coming. Not even the most cautions pundit or reckless crystal ball gazer. Closest we came was a bit of sarcasm . Sarcasm by the way is the only way to get through most of the arid excitement free matches we've been subjected to. Between the vuvuzelas and the ubber cautious teams afraid to commit to anything beyond a draw, football fans have had to wait and wait and wait for the first signs of healthy competitive aggression.  My first WC memories are from the 70's , and from that time to this , I don't think I've ever had to endure quite as many uninspired performances as this World Cup. I expected fire works from Portugal, I also expected shin kicking, bad tackles an loads of diving. While the later was in abundance, goals were not. Cote D'Ivoire, not a team to be taken lightly, played hard and defended well, but considering the talent and fire power on the Portuguese bench, it's obvious they were not willing to try force the game. It was like watching Arsenal play Chelsea minus the killer instinct of Didier Drogba who was inexplicably made a sub. My one highlight of  Svenn v Ronaldo as ITV put it, was seeing Christiano Ronaldo getting booked early and hard. I cannot tell with what passion I loathe the greasy stain that used to play at Man U, his smugness and lack of gratitude towards Alex Ferguson is shocking beyond belief. Clearly since he's left Old Trafford, his old and very bad habits have returned with a vengeance. As for Svenn Goren Useless, I could not believe we needed a primer on the career of this most recent in a string of rubbish England managers, perhaps a few in depth reports on Ivorian players not in already in the top flight might have been in order. I suspect however that the real problem is that most of the build up is geared to tourists, people who join the football addicted in the family for a few matches every 2 years. Just yesterday, the BBC spent most of it's time apologising for the lack of goals. Like a fellow obsessive pointed out in the nerd cave, real supporters are used to nil nil or 1-0 results. Real football is more than a scoreline. I've seen more exciting draws on derby days than you can shake a stick at. Something I haven't done much lately as I was told I could put somebody's eye out. The skill in a well made save or the spectacle of a defence that strips opponents effortlessly of the ball is a pleasure to behold.  Goals aren't everything, we do need them but they aren't everything.

The match where all those skills were on display, was North Korea v Brazil. It was a master class in premiership quality football. If I'm honest, I was expecting a bloodbath, a humiliating exercise reminiscent of the 8-0 punishment Saudi Arabia suffered a few World Cups ago. Instead we had a nil nil first half where we realised the plucky ( I hate that word) but it applies here, team from Glorious Leader land weren't just a bunch of political prisoners living on gruel and fear. The fact they held off a frankly scary good Brazilian side is testament  to the skill and determination of these players to show they are for real. I never thought in a million years that I'd find myself cheering for a bloodthirsty dictatorship, but there you are. The other thing to take from today's result is simple, even if Brazil managed a 2-1 result, it hides the fact that they were  not as good as Germany in a similarly one sided fixture were far more successful in crushing their minnow opponents. Kaka and his samba boys are not to be taken lightly, but hardly the immovable force that will trip up Germany. At one pont, Bazilians were seen to be openly appealing to God. Surely this means they will be easily rattled by more efficient less emotional sides.Both Chile and Spain play today. Perhaps one of those two will show the form required to challenge for the final or they will join the other also rans who are fighting for the privilege to be taken out last by the eventual finalists. One other element needs pointing out is the rain. Been terribly English  and will benefit teams with players who practice their club football in the Premiership and fizzy pop.

So how am I bearing up to the schedule? I've made a concious decision to not miss a single match if I can. This means that I have become used to eating and taking care of  non footie related life stuff between the 2nd and final match of the day. I take a long nap, ok I sleep for 5 hours shortly after the evening final whistle and have started passing on a so called "normal" timetable. You need to know something, my wife and I are writers, consequently getting up earlier than 10 am or even noon on a Saturday is against our religion, so you would think  the World Cup would be a dawdle. Problem is, this world cup has proven a bit more of a challenge. You need life affirming food and drink, or the dull matches will destroy any chance you have of staying awake. If I'm not careful, next time I nod off, I might stay asleep for 8 hours straight. Before sitting down to write this, I spent the last three hours doing dishes, sorting laundry and cleaning the cat toilet. If we had waited any longer , the house would be worthy of a teenagers pit or a dorm room after a particularly good party.  Non footie associates  know better than to ring me for the next month about anything remotely time consuming, our telly has been reduced to football with breaks to keep our eyes from dropping out of their sockets. It' all about discipline and not forgetting to eat and pee. So far so good, looks like we'll make Marathon without dropping dead right after delivering the message.

Apologies to those of you waiting for purple prose praising Father and Son or prime picks of premium musical promotion ( say that 10 times fast). Until the opening group stages settle down, I'm afraid there will be little else. I'm not completely addled, Doctor Who has my full attention and  I'm gagging to make a giant vat of  beef and barley soup. Beat Surrender still fuels the brain cells when writing these blog posts and I hope you are taking the opportunity to listen.  Also NE Pride, I know for a fact has had some listens as well. so , keep it up dear readers and give the programmes and stations listed on the side, they deserve you support and will not disappoint, regardless of your personal taste in music.

Kick off in a few hours, so best get some food prepared  and gird our loins for the coming day of sitting on our arse. Match of the day if you only watch one , is Spain v Switzerland.  Have fun and support a good side.  These teams are not the entire nation they are collections of talented humans, May the best ones make the final.

Curse of the rubbish Goal keeper or the Clown Keeper Convention

Finally a mystery worthy of the great Sherlock Homes himself. What has happened to the goal keepers of the world. It's like a virus has struck anybody standing between to sticks. Suddenly these highly paid professionals cannot seem to stop a ball often struck so poorly that you wonder if a settee surfing lay about (Yes I'm talking about you) couldn't have got his mitts around the thing. . You have to wonder hadn't you, just why the footie Gods have chosen to afflict this World Cup first with vuvuzelas and now an apparent epidemic of the dropsies.

I can't speak for the vuvuzelas, except to say that if you find them annoying there are measures you can take, starting with your television . Go to your advanced settings and reduce the treble to NIL, this won't make the bees go away, but they won't drill into your head so badly. You can also have a moan to FIFA .This blight on the ears has one positive effect, well several, firstly it has united fans from the planet over, including Africa, to call for a ban. Don't let anybody tell you it's just Europeans and we are being insensitive to the local culture. That is the PC position adopted by some bleeding hearts who would rather discuss the role of empire rather than watch some decent football. The other  benefit is that I have at long last found a way to drown out Mick McCarthy's bizarre mutterings about "two columns of four" and other strange incantations.  I'm certain if you listen long enough , you can hear a special message from God letting you know that you're a click away from great insurance rates if you use wesellanymeercats.com.

Mick wasn't alone in having a hard day though, Mark Lawrenson, Scouse legend in his own mind, was on the verge of self immolation during the Japan Cameroon match. Several pleas for clemency were made, but the referee refused to call time at the 60th minute. I'm sure there have been more boring matches  in this tournament, but Japan Cameroon was by far the least memorable and most reminiscent of a classic defensive battle of wits in a Fizzy pop (Cola Championship) relegation dogfight. You don't want to loose but you don't want to attack in case the other side proves less rubbish than you and sends you packing to league 1.

The gloom lifted finally when Italy v Paraguay kicked off. Italy perennial whingers left the blocks in a leisurely bolt in search of the goal to hunker down behind and defend. Sadly for Italy, Paraguay  scored a pretty goal that was well organized and executed. After this, Italy had to play to survive. For his trouble, the best goal keeper of the tournament thus far, was sent off by his own manager. I suppose Buffon hadn't got the memo about the new international standard . Not to worry, the Paraguayan keeper did, and in keeping with the bar set by Rob Green, he promptly surpassed it. Would you like to know why he couldn't stop the ball? Sun in his eyes, bit of dust, maybe his defenders distracted him? Could have been the cute little bird on the pitch, and he was incredibly cute. You give up? He was waving to a mate in the crowd and wasn't paying attention. Just when did this World Cup become the Ringling Brothers Comedy convention of crap Keepers?

Before we get too wrapped in  the colourful characters currently inflicting pain on their own supporters, ask yourself a question. Have you noticed that highly skilled professionals who play club football , are stars in their own right, cannot seem to complete passes properly. I'm not saying all the time, just enough to make you wonder if there isn't something else happening. How is that two players who regularly pass to each other almost instinctively, cannot seem to be able to control the ball.? I'm no expert, but I can make an educated guess. That ball we been using in the Champions League , that ball we been hearing about for months, that ball players have been slating since it was introduced, seems unstable. It bounces like a tennis ball, but gets trapped by the slightest breeze and rolls funny. Imagine if a new golf ball was introduced and near every pro  suddenly started killing innocent spectators with rogue golf balls. Unlike FIFA, the governing bodies of golf would quickly move to change the ball back.  While I'd love to blame the vuvuzela or Mick McCarthy and his incantations, I can't. Adidas has to shoulder some of the blame. They have made a ball that is one improvement too far. At some point there will be the penultimate ball. The Aristotelian football we are not worthy of building but one day will, or has that football come and gone? As players and spectators, we need a ball that will be a long term standard that will insure a uniformity of play experience if you have a decent pitch.

Three more matches and the arrival finally, of the other team that will be expected to put on a show. Brazil play hapless North Korea at 7:30 pm UK time ( sorry its on ITV)  so best to avoid the build-up and just tune in the match. With luck two things will happen, ITV won't cut away to an advert as  Kaka scores the goal of the tournament, and the comedy keeper curse won't strike again. Portugal v Ivory Coast promises to be equally entertaining, though if I'm honest, I hope the oily twat Christiano Ronaldo has a terrible World Cup.

Nearly forgot, today also saw the official appearance of the World Cup babes. The women who have been missing since Friday, have made it to their seats and are being beamed around the world to appreciative men who hither to have had to look at trannies and oddly dressed mascot fans in giant sperm costumes. Brazil and Portugal will be a treat ! 

I would tell you about some brilliant programmes on telly, but after 6 hours of football and little sleep I was only able to fit in today's Corrie and Jonathan Dimbleby before I passed out for a well deserved rest.

Next kick off in a few hours, best get some laundry in before we're trapped for another 6 hours. Laters all, enjoy the football and remember, support the best team, not the team Adrian Chiles brow beats you about .

Doctor Who,Telly and the World Cup finally started Blitzkrieg style

Last few days have a been a steady diet of home-made chicken pies, muffins, spicy ramen noodles  and gallons and gallons of tea. interspersed with  grudging bits of sleep in between football matches and blog posts. Since the World Cup kicked off on Friday,we have had 8 matches. Some deeply disappointing , some mildly exciting and one that was personally embarrassing and stressful and another that was the entire reason  the World Cup is held in the first place. You can guess which one caused me no end of shame, the reason I do mention it is because my computer gadgee is an Algerian gentleman of cheery but competitive disposition. I was going to go in and act a bit smug and vastly superior , but Rob Green robbed me of that and kept me from picking up my speakers by a few days. That is until today. Algeria also had a goal keeper malfunction very nearly as bad as we did. While not as over the top as our slow motion horror show, it was sufficient to allow me the dignity and the face, to go to his shop tomorrow and not look a complete twat. Well have a bit of friendly sparing about just who was more rubbish and we move on to more important things.

And that folks is Germany. The young ,supposedly underrated side, claimed it would show no mercy and the world  took little notice. Poor delusional fools, how were a bunch of kids  and a few veterans going to steam roller all before them? I never doubted their resolve or ability for a minute. What was fun , was for the first time since the dung beetle helped declare the games open, we saw a proper football match. A master class in how to pass, defend, scatter your opponents and most importantly to score. it ended 4-0. But you already knew that, what you need to realize is this, Germany are the first team to say we are here to win. None of this playing for as long as we can  but being happy to last till some big club takes us out. They ARE the big club that will take out a great number of sides before they are done. They let every striker loose and each one scored a goal at the first time of asking. The only question is will they meet another immovable force or will they cruise all the way to the final?  As for my Australian friends, and they are numerous, you didn't play badly, you were just unlucky enough to be the first team to be mauled by the latest panzer division of New German shock footballers. A word about them later , but back to Australia for now.

The Socceroos have climbed higher and higher in the estimation of the footballing world every year, the quality and number of pro football teams increases with every new franchise that takes root across the country. You even call it football. If past experience is anything to go by, Australia will in  5 to 10 years be as good as England is today, and on present form , that's not saying much . Yes you too will limp from international embarrassment to international embarrassed while your individual players carve an ever larger place in the twice yearly meat market known as the transfer window. Sure Germany spanked you 4-0, you were crushed like bugs, but at least you know there was little you could do about it. We on the other hand , had lots of warning and time to fix what we needed to fix. The fact we still managed to yet again make a shambles of our opening match is entirely down to our FA and our top flight that prefers flashy ready made players and refuses to figure out just why it is we  don't seem to be able to grow players content to be great goal keepers. Next world cup we'll both be there , but I won't be so sure about Australia being the patsy it was today, while we stay fatally attracted to what my mate Colin Ayton calls

The four horsemen of England's World Cup Apocalypse,
Calamity - Which ever goalkeepers is.
Petulance - When Rooney inevitably flips and gets send off.
Frustration - Watching Heskey miss 2 sitters a game which Bent would have flicked in.
Penalty - As we inevitably go out on. ...

And on that note, Back to our German mates. For the first time I wasn't bored when half time came and I wasn't aware of the passage of time. It was like going to see The Stones or ACDC, I could have watched all day. Good thing it's only 90 minute though , wouldn't have been fair on the Aussies would it? The Germans represent the new Europe. Increasingly,more and more European sides boast a naturalized Brazilian, an Ivorian or some Turk. Germany has three brilliant Polish players, without them they would be that much weaker. In fact if we take a closer look at the Soceroos, there is a good number of Italians, Poles, Turks and assorted other immigrants. If we just keep the fascists at bay, this is the future world, a good world . The difference is that the German top flight develops the best that much better and they also make room for citizens over greater amounts of expensive imports. A lesson we can all learn from.

About those horns....The top organisation boffin person thingy said he would consider banning the killer bees if enough people complained. Here's your chance, for the sake of all the people going deaf and getting migraines, to send an e-mail and tell them to ban those things NOW . Send your firm but polite email  HERE .
I don't think I can take three more weeks of that. Let's have our singing sections back please.We can't hear ourselves, we can't hear the chants or the bands . One last chance to send that e-mail to... savemyears@enoughalready or direct to FIFA .

So what's more sad than a bunch of pasty faced Doctor Who nerds in a private thread? Why it's the same nerds talking football for 6 hours a day till the final. We wouldn't be doing it if we weren't having fun and the nasty bullies hadn't stolen our bicycles. I wouldn't have it any other way to be honest.. Tomorrow we get to do bad puns based on Italy Holland and the other nations playing. You try finding ways to fit Ghana into a sentence without resorting to broad Geordie or Scots?

Now hard to believe , but there was more gannin on this week than football. Doctor Who aired the next to  penultimate episode of the current series. The Lodger was writen and performed in the fashion of a buddy sitcom adventure. Slightly dull fat guy fancies the hell out of a pretty girl who won't make the first move but wishes the shlemiel did. Doctor arrives and in the grand tradition of Cyrano De Bergerac brings the lovers together, but not before Corden gets jealous and crazy and the girl played by Daisy Haggard, wonders if the Doctor wouldn't be a better catch if Craig wimps out. I forgot a bit.... yeah , there's this room upstairs that keeps swallowing strangers. This same room is keeping the Tardis from landing.... I personally think it's the Master, we never do find out but we do get to see some of the best footie moves not on the pitch in South Africa. Read ,the last blog to find out about number 11 aka Matt Smith. James Corden professional annoying man is actually good in this peice, but then he would be yeah , as he has a script. James Corden is not a comedian, he is not a writer. He is an actor, and his best material was left behind at Gavin and Stacey. If you can watch the post match Corden special every night on ITV, don't . Here's a sample of the dialogue as collected by a brave volunteer

Woo hoo! Wooooooo !

CORDEN : (to Gordon Banks) Gordon, is it true that England drew their first match in 1966?

GORDON : Yes, it's true, we DID draw 1-1 against Uruguay. But we went on to win in 1966 - Geoff Hurst scored a hat-trick.

CROWD & CORDEN : Woo! Hoo! Wooooooooo! Come on, England! Woooo!

SIMON COWELL : Gordon, hi, it's Simon...Gordon, I hope I'm not being rude, but...is it true that we, England, drew our first match in 1966? But we went on to win the tournament that year...? Didn't we? That is, England?

GORDON : Simon, we drew our first match in 1966, and there was a lot of criticism in the press, but we went on to win the World Cup that year - in 1966 - with Geoff Hurst scoring a hat-trick in the final against Germany.

ABI CLANCY : Woooooo! Woo hoo! Isn't that GREAT? I hope Pete is watchin' this...come on, England - we can do it!! Woooop!

CORDEN : (to Katy Perry) Katy, you look GORGEOUS - who were you supporting tonight?

KATY PERRY : (giggles) If I say I didn't support Eng-- er, I mean Yoo Ess Ay, they'll KILL me in the American press! Russell's got a clause in his filming contract - if England get to the finals (sic) like they did in 1966, when Geoff Hurst scored a hit-truck - Woo! Wooooo! Yeah!! - Eat my t1tz! - then we're getting married and Russell will referee the final!

CORDEN : FANTASTIC! Come on England. I wanna see that! You guys are great! Woooo hoooo!!

Pretty much summed up the 2 mins I saw...

Thanks Mate, we owe you a debt of gratitude.

Not forgetting Corden's new wing man Dizzy Rascal who shouted at us in an earlier post, he has promised to quit the music business if England win the World Cup.  Now I know what I said just now, but if Dizzy Rascal will go away and take Corden with him, I would be forced to reconsider my support for Germany. Come on England, do it  for the music industry if not your pride.

Those of you familiar with this blog will know we are avid Coronation Street fans that have just returned to watching. As predicted, the strange blending of dialogue from one scene to the next has stopped and the fingerprints of  the new producer , ex Who alumnus Phil Collison are becoming more and more apparent. Much of the legacy of Kim Crowther is being swept aside. Her unnecessarily confrontational story lines and  constant shouting are slipping away like the drunk uncle who knows he's overstayed his welcome. On the first full day of control , we counted 10 jokes in three minutes , where there had been only grim faces and imminent violence for months . You could feel the street returning to normal like after  a particularly nasty curry had finally been shat out from the night before. I won't keep you in suspense any longer than you need to be. Nobody important died in the fire at Underworld, Gail Platt was found innocent, Tracy Barlow got the stuffing beat out of her and sent back to Hell, Carla is off with her bin man to South Africa  for the World Cup, Maria has gone to Ireland with bairn and no clear return date  as far as we know, and no cast member has been sacked.. We can assume from this , as a worst case scenario, sexy but dull Maria is gone forever , Carla may or may not return, as for the bin man, I won't miss him if he decides to stay in Johannesburg.  

Life goes on, I have a football match in about 8 hours and I still need to sleep.  Catch you tomorrow and may the footie Gods shine their mighty countenance on your team and not make monkeys out of them.

And then this giant dung beetle came out.

You prepare for this mentally for two years, you worry if your country will collect the very best players and you hope they will not embarrass you. In the case of England, we come to expect the worst from keepers, fragility in our young players and idiosyncrasies in our managers. We start out knowing deep inside that we won't get much further than the quarter finals. So when the World cup starts we turn our tellies on, open our newspapers and tune in our radios to see hear and read a steady stream of Rule Britannia, we are the best, and we will be immaculate killer krikkit robots half efficient German   half passionate Italian and half Brazilian dancer. I know that's 1.5 but if you can give 200% why not be 50% of three things too? . Any road, we totaly buy into the shite stream of propaganda the week before, only to have it stripped away within 20 minutes of the first kick of the ball by England.

This year has been no different. What a delight to see that goal so forcefully executed  by Scouse pretty boy Steven Gerrad. and yet Who could have imagined that not much later the good ship England would sputter and die in a moment that will forever be etched in our collective memories. I expected that at some point there would be a clanger, but this was the mother and father of all clangers.  A ball travelling so slowly , a school boy could have stopped it, dribbled into the net exposing the massive gaping hole euphemistically  known as the "Goal Keeper problem". Not since David Seaman, England's porn star stopper and Arsenal super star, have we had a keeper worthy of the jersey . We can field the finest strikers and mid fielders, but our roll call of keepers is more a catalogue of clowns, unknowns and relegation destined number ones. David "Calamity" James is waiting in the wings to remind us just how awful he was the first time around as the England stopper. Poor Green, I should feel sorry for him, I should have some compassion for him, but you know what? I don't, Why do we have to endure these inept, half inflated built in accidents waiting to happen. At least when Mad Jens  gave us kittens with Arsenal , we also knew he was capable of some stunning saves. Maybe it 's the water or maybe Margaret Thatcher's fault, but England cannot produce a goal keeper worthy of a Sunday side for love or money. Lord help us if we get as far as the semi final. Perhaps it was a blessing that some nameless , now sacked probably, tech pulled the plug on the broadcast right as Steven Gerrard was scoring a goal. Pity he couldn't do that later on to spare us the spectacle of Green flailing about like a trout out of water.

Ah but it wasn't all doom and gloom. Two of the dullest teams on Earth showed up to see who could put us to sleep faster. Without doubt while France with it's hapless uninspired play was a close second, it was Greece in a display of laid back stoicism was the total opposite of what a Greek is supposed to be. I've worked with Greeks .Passionate people , I mean barmy as a bag of wet cats passionate. and this lot were sleeping in the noon day sun.The only thing more annoying than a dull lifeless football match. Is the sound of the swarm of killer bees that seem to have been allowed to attend. Described by one commentator as "The longest and angriest traffic jam ever", these things are noisier than a jet engine and more dangerous. A mate from Gallfrey Base told us to reduce the treble on our tellies to nil. While the noise wasn't any quieter it was at least less brain piercing. During the England match there was a struggle between the signing supporters the band and the drummers to drown out the killer bees, but except for a few brief moments, it was a losing struggle. At least Nigeria Argentina sounded like a proper football match, It had hum, roaring, signing, drumming ...  all the stuff you associate with a day out at the park.

One of the other great things you associate with football coverage  and opening ceremonies is the very strange and beautiful. The opening ceremony , however brief, under 90 minutes, was truly Africa on show to the world. The  costumes, dancers, singers and musicians , despite being in probably the least expensive opening ceremony in decades, were entertaining, memorable and without doubt a reasonable representation of what is best about African culture. The sci fi moment was the appearance of one of the cast of Starship Troopers. The giant beetle has since become  popular and says it wants to be on Coronation Street. I would like to point out to whoever is running the cameras, you're supposed to show gorgeous women in ity bity shirts and tiny skirts. Instead we got Tim Healy in his Benidorm kit. Two trannies complete with bad wigs and even worse make up were the England representatives in the sexiest supporters on the screen  contest. Was there not one fit woman sporting a St-Georges cross on her cheeks, either cheeks would have been nice?

I did find out one thing about myself and apparently most of my friends, we would rather watch Doctor Who than sit through Adrian Chiles and his cronies  do condescending pieces about how South Africans watch telly on bed sheets, or delivering  drivel in studio, worthy of the One Show and saying soccer all the time. It's called football mate. Oh and the man can put insomniacs to sleep with his droning on and on and on and on . Much prefer the BBC any day, At least the pundits who regularly annoy us during the year are genuine sport journalists and former players, unlike the collection of light entertainment  sofa jockeys over at ITV.

As for my long held prejudices and football appetites for revenge, I found myself mellowing just a bit. I'm looking forward most to Germany v Oz and much to my surprise, I wish Australia well, all the while  hoping Germany put on a master class in football. So what if Diego Maradona is a drug addled cheat,  do I have to take it out on the entire Argie team? Not really, And until Australia get as good at football as they are at cricket, I doubt we'll be doing anything worse than a few humorous jibes. I like most of the well known world class players, I watch them week in week out most years. This year was the exception as my beloved Newcastle United spent a year in fizzy pop for tax purposes. As a result, I paid scarce attention to the Prem and all it's pretty football and sky high personalities. These acrobats of football take what lesser players do and turn it into art, skill and entertainment rolled into one. Notwithstanding our Mr Green, we watch the World Cup as much for the spectacle of theses players as we do to see who's going to be on our wish lists. Either way, we don't have room to hate entire sides, except maybe Portugal and it's collection of divers, shirt tuggers and assorted bully boys, I sincerely hope the best team wins and the best players shine.. The World Cup is a showcase for current and future top flight players, Much as it pains me, not all the best players in the world are English. How else will I know who will shortly be the subject of wildly inaccurate stories in the red tabs or in the official mouthpiece of Real Madrid. It strikes as odd that this year Real Madrid aren't undermining a Man U, Arsenal or Chelsea player this summer. Maybe no one wants to take up any of the players currently bloating Real's payroll or the asking price has finally gotten too high even for the high rollers. Fingers crossed this means that salaries and transfer fees have hit as high as can go without bankrupting teams.

Best player of the tournament so far?  Number 11 from the King's Arms  pub .... The Doctor in last night's episode The Lodger, explodes in a frenzy of moves worthy of the love child of Christiano Ronaldo and Wayne Rooney. " Matt Smith is a former Nottingham Forest footballer. The actor, who is the eleventh actor and youngest ever to take on the role of the Time Lord, played for the reds at Under 12, 13 and 14 level. He also played for Northampton Town Under 11s and 12s and Leicester City Under 15s and 16s and had ambitions to turn fully professional before a back injury forced him out of the game." James Corden wasn't bad for a podgy lad either.Who knows, when Matt hangs up his bow tie, he might join the commentary crew at the BBC.

Well the fun resumes in a few hours, but if I'm honest, I suspect the match of the day and consequently scheduled last up to accommodate North American fans, is Germany v Australia.  Perhaps this will be the thus far elusive Holy Grail of early matches, complete with fewer horns, exciting play and a full stadium of pretty frauliens and Oz birds for the cameras to pan over.

x=(2010 - 1966) Years of pain , still we keep believing, Come on England!

It's 55 years since Newcastle United won the FA Cup last,  44 years since England won the World Cup, it was also the only time England won the World Cup. In 1966 I was a tiny little boy , my biggest concern was being vaguely aware of the 1000th anniversary of the founding of the Polish State. There were Church basement parties, I'm told I went to parades and special concerts . If I'm honest, I don't remember all that much. Just  loads of strangers in our house. It wasn't till years later that I began having  memories of any kind worth getting worked up over.  And yet  those victories in 1955 and 1966 resonate in my soul to such an extent that I can tell you about those great teams. I've seen the clips and read the books, and yet there are days I can't remember where I left my keys,but ask me about a Champions League Final or Derby, I can paint a picture in words. As a football supporter I reckon time in fixtures lists and summer breaks. I can tell when something happened if I can attach a canny goal, famous victory or more often than not, yet another disastrous outing for Newcastle or England. As in answer to the question, "When did you meet your wife?"  Well I know it was before  we went out on pens to Portugal but after we beat Sunderland 4-1 away.  It was Shearer's last ever match and he scored that penalty late in the 2nd half..... .

Now if you are one of the few non football types reading this, let me explain something to you. When we are in fits of rage, finger nails reduced to bloody stumps and unable to sleep or eat from worry, we are in fact having fun. I know it doesn't look like that, but we are. It's our biennial ( World Cup and Euro) rush of blood to the head, when we get to dream yet again of faded glory and hope springs eternal that the latest manager won't screw it up or a certain Chelsea player won't go green at the gills and miss a pen that he would otherwise nail any other day.....I Still feel sick thinking about that one. It's our outlet for feeling that testosterone filled tribal unity of purpose without having to declare war or sacrifice virgins on an altar. We get to wear some seriously silly clothes and bond with total strangers we might otherwise never talk to. We as a planet ( except for maybe two countries) indulge in  some pretty serious male bonding followed  by even more male bonding. Football, is one of the last refuges of talent, skill, fitness and luck that exists today. You can within reason predict an outcome, but as they say , it's a funny old game, between the ref and the weather and the mood of the players and the crowd, there is no way of knowing for sure how it will end. Unlike X factor, you can't see the winner till end of play.

Thanks to Bend it like Beckham, it has also become acceptable for girls to join in as well. Pretty good if you're a male of the species seeking a mate who will also declare that the calendar only has 10 months in it except in Euro and World Cup years , when it has 11 months broken up by the wait for the next fixtures list. There is however a risk in mixed marriages, derby days can be a bit of a struggle. Do you let it all hang out or pretend you're just a bit gutted for your wife when your mortal enemies have just been spanked 4-0, meaning she will be mardy for the rest of the day?  I won't advise you on this as any advice I give you will be wrong and you'll only blame me for the ruination of your life. In my case, my wife still loves Man United but has become such a Toon supporter she bleeds black and white more than I do. Whatever you, don't say Mike Ashley if she's got a sharp object.

Now what am I feeling and thinking right now, a few days before the big kick off? I'm wondering if all my tops are clean, do we have enough food and drink in for the week end and will I be able to get my writing deadlines in before I do sod all because I can't be moved from in front of the telly? Somehow I doubt it . That's it, nothing else matters for the next month, I will eat breathe and sleep football. I love Doctor Who, but I'm hoping it's not going to interfere with the matches. At least this year the Cup is being played only an hour away instead of Korean central time. I'm not willing to get up at strange hours for most things, but the World Cup is different. If I don't see the match live, I'll be forced to avoid friends, steer clear of newspapers, radio and entire web sites. It can't be done and it's unfair to ask me.  Pretty shallow I hear you saying, and maybe you're right, there are bigger issues, earth shatteringly important things like, will the officiating be as good or better than in 2006, or will we see a repeat of the scandals of 2002 with the shameful displays of diving, corrupt officials and doubtful calls that seemed to favour a certain host nation until the world threatened to stop watching. Then there's the whole question of the electronic official. I'd love to have a clean World Cup, a WC that has refs that are without flaw and get every call right. Thing is they are human, and that means they make mistakes. We don't have to tolerate the worst of them any more, there is goal line technology that will determine in seconds flat if the ball went in, or if  Maradona handled the ball. I am also concerned that if they mess with the ball yet again, it will affect the way the way the game is played. I'm worried refs will expect respect but still take the piss out of players.As you can see I'm a sensitive and complex man.

My biggest conflict is my desire to see the players  I follow the rest of the year every year, perform well, and not get hurt. If I'm honest, as much as I'd love to see a 2nd star on England shirts, I'd almost rather have Newcastle United as far from bottom of the table and go 6th or even 4th in the Prem. While for some of you, that Croatian with a funny name is a revelation, my wife however will have been watching Vidic play for Manchester United for  the last few years. The last thing we want is to see is our best players banged up on pitches  thousands of miles from home playing for a team that will likely not win the tournament or place in the final 8. Michael Owen spent more time in therapy than on the pitch for Newcastle as it is, but. our hearts sank when he was injured in 2006. The club has yet to recover all the financial damages claimed from his World Cup exit. Considering the amount of time he was on the books for the Toon, we'll never know what impact he could have had if he'd played regularly.

Speaking of  agony and what might have been, right  here, right now, I have a terrible ache in the pit of my stomach, a feeling of dread that we will be afflicted by every calamity, bad call and mismanaged substitution that has snatched defeat from the jaws of victory time and again. I'm sure the feeling will be replaced soon enough by misplaced optimism and pure hope in the belief that this year is the year we do it. This year is the year we can finally stop counting the bloody years of pain in those maudlin songs they keep writing. Despite  the injuries ( Rio Ferdinand) and slightly combative spirits ( Rooney) It is possible we could win this year. Every year we won ( see above) , England did not have a song. This year , we don't either, see my last post about the terminally unfunny Mr Corden and the abysmally bad SHOUT. Spirits are high, last Saturday fewer people watched the telly BAFTAs than watched England play the rest of the world  in a charity kick about taken by far to many of us far too seriously,  where we went out on pens (again) . On the back of that performance, we've been promised the real England team have practised this time. I for one believe our Italian. Robert Green, West Ham's goal keeper  helped his club place 17th this year, surely the clear superior of  Buffon and co. 

I suppose I may as well admit now that in a few weeks I'll be writing about how we were robbed, bemoaning the quality of officiating and wondering how we went out on pens yet  again to ( insert team name... Portugal Italy Germany  Brazil) . I might even be inconsolable for at least a week and only calm down when the first rays of Top Gear emanate from my telly. On the other hand , we could have won the Cup and I will be floating on air for weeks . One is allowed to dream, isn't one?

Regardless of what happens, a few quick rules during the World Cup.

1-Do not leave the room for food, bathroom breaks, or anything less than a fire or angry ferrets, and even then you should wait for half time or else somebody will score, usually the other guys.

2- Do not ring your mate during a match or during the last five minutes " for a joke". It's never ever funny, and he'll hate you for life.

3- Never ever say " It's just a game". There lies danger and you will be held responsible for any injuries you have justly asked for.

4- If you are new to this, when entering a pub, bar, sitting room full of devotees,  pick a player, occasionally shake your  head, say his name in a concerned or excited way and you might even look like you know what you're talking about.

5- Depending where you are on planet Earth, go to sleep early and set you alarm clock. I assure you, your boss will understand why you look half dead and your productivity has dropped by 50 %.

5- Join a pool of some kind, you might even put a fiver on the tournament, it will heighten that ecstasy or agony all the more when you have pride and few bob riding on the result.

6 Pick a team to support when your side tumbles out ignominiously. No fun just watching for three weeks .

7- Find a Brazilian party, win or loose, they will be the highlight of your World Cup, and the women are hot.

8- Lastly, Remember to  wash, even girls into football, don't like sleeping with trolls.


If you follow these simple rules , you will have joined the rest of humanity and had a good time in the bargain.

See you  Monday for the usual Telly and music stuff.... COM'N ENGLAND!

Yes Vincent I could hear the colours too... Doctor Who has an Art attack

As usual, this blog brought you by my  musical director and his fine radio programme Beat Surrender.

Last post was a bit intense, but that's only because I had to endure an entire week of BGT. But Mietek I can hear you say , you don't HAVE to watch. True, but I was committed to seeing  if Chandi and impressionist Paul would get in. I promise on a stack of Doctor Who Annuals, I won't watch next year...Honest! Irritatingly, I hear from my tweeps/twits/twats at twitter, Simon Cowell has been given a lifetime achievement award at the Telly Baftas, when will the madness end? Didn't see the Baftas, as I was too busy watching England loose on pens to the rest of the world. They had Woody Harrelson and Wayne from Wayne's World. We didn't have a chance. ....As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by myself, ... The alternative, Corrie, had been pulled  two days in, due to the incredibly sad and tragic events in Cumbria and short of watching any number of films I have already seen or given a wide berth the first time around, there wasn't much else on. What with super week on ITV and the World cup starting on the 11th,  no one is willing to put much of anything new until the midle of next month.

There was however at least one massive beautiful, ethereal bright spot on the telly that has me thinking I'll have to watch this at least twice more before I'm completely done drinking in the programme. Doctor Who , in what has to be the stand alone episode  every whovian has to have a copy of and possibly the best ep of the current series, "Vincent and the Doctor", achieved a number of things in the simplest and most poetic outing to date.  I spent a good deal of time admiring the art on display before I got round to soaking in the story itself. The art was not just for show, it was used to demonstrate that all is not as we see it and far more fluid. Brilliant ,sensitively played and written, it did have one slightly disconcerting problem, I had no idea Van Gogh was Scottish ? A detail while somewhat important, I will pass on as on the whole the story was so well done. Not since Rose was forced to not save her father, have the rules of  time been so clearly and simply explained with absolute near irrevocable finality ( except of course when it's one of those times that choices have to be made). You can't change history most times even if you want to, it has a way of  just proving you were supposed to do that in the first place. A lovely self contained story about how life is what it is. If you can't change time, what do you do? You make a sick unhappy persecuted person happy for a short time. The compassion shown in "Vincent" was good advice and an affirmation that like with Nelson Mandella, or a sick person, we have the capacity to make another's life good for a short time or just another extension of Hell. Ask my father if he regrets going through Siberia or my wife's aunt if she would have preferred Not being Dr Mengele's guinea pig? But they survived and had far better lives later on. We as sons, nieces friends and total strangers can choose to contributed to the good times rather than the bad, that even our past tragedies contribute to our future joys, is the message to take from it. Vincent sees that Amy is, despite surface appearances, mourning Rory, she has not forgotten him  and the tragedy of his death will make her do things in her future, more than likely important and most definitively with Galactic implications. In answer to Keith Topping's question, is it Doctor Who? No it's not , it's more Great Bird of the Galaxy at his best. Gene Rodenberry understood that at it's core, life is about how you live it.We are the sum total of our actions and the actions of those around us. Vincent and the Doctor was a metaphor for a troubled time. Choices that will affect the very fabric of time are coming and they will be wrapped up in tiny personal bite size  questions that aren't always obvious at first glance. Was the monster an impediment  or a help? I have a feeling the story would have moved along to the same glorious conclusion without the creature being dispatched with an easel to the chest. One last thing, I'm a bit surprised  by the insensitive talk surrounding Amy and Vincent,. I don't think there should be any impediment for two gingers reproducing. After all Gingers are people too. "Vincent and the Doctor" is destined to be one of those stories that have a life of their own like Arc of Infinity or the Key to Time. So far this series, Doctor Who has been like a big box of mystery chocies, some familiar , some less so, most delicious and maybe one a bit disappointing. I leave it to you to figure out which one that is. Here's a clue..... It had mushy odd tasting Dalek centre..

Here's a treat I know you will all enjoy. Last Thursday Colin Baker was interviewed by BBC Newcastle Radio's own Paddy MacDee. Click on the link and The former Doctor comes in  from about the 29th minute.  better hurry , the link is only good till this Thursday.

Compared to the masterpiece above, Corrie was a bit of a let down. For those paying attention, I had indeed decided to boycott Corrie until after the worst excesses of Km Crowther were history, but a combination of inexorable forces conspired to make us watch this week. First, my wife missed her Corrie, and second it was  the last week of Kim Crowther. It seemed wrong not to watch. Be aware readers that for the first time Corrie is brought to you in glorious HD! Yes now you can see Liz MacDonalds neck better, Kym Marsh can fall out her towel in far greater clarity and Roy Cropper can talk about trains to your face up close. What we did get to see was far more cinematic in feel and editing. Felt like we had walked into the middle part of a Guy Ritchie film, a bad one. Instead of pointing out the incredible age of the street and  the texture of the place as well as playing on the lovely aged interior of the Rover's, they chose to clean up the place too much . Weatherfield should not have looked so bright and clean and another thing, it never once rained. I was disappointed that Sean who seems to be a such a curious person , normally full of information, had only the sketchiest of notions as to the story of the most famous pub on television. The presumably new opening and closing sequences are very pretty, very gadgetty, very.... lets play with the new toy a bit. At least they kept the cat in. Personally, I prefer the old opening and hope this is just temporary. The new superimposing of one bit of dialogue over another  does give it a certain dramatic tension, but frankly speaking it's Corrie, not Lock Stock and two smoking barrels. Corrie is a nice programme in which interesting , fairly normal people live fairly normal lives. The need for such a device past this last week of Kim Crowther's reign seems limited at best. Doctor Who's Phil Collison has a mighty big task ahead of him. How do you film the rest of the series when the previous producer has blown the budget on a monster finale week in which the knicker factory is blown up and a few cast members are rumoured to be killed/sacked. It being the 50th anniversary of the nation's soap,  I suspect Dalek week will have to be postponed, perhaps he could consult with Jeremy Clarkson about working on a shoestring budget. I know, they can always drop a piano on Mad Mary's Camper!

Now in case you weren't ready for the spirit destroying clangers, tragic injuries and bad calls that will almost assuredly plague us during the World cup, BBC3 has a timely reminder to destroy any optimism you may still be harbouring. Two hours of Richard Bacon and Peter Crouch reminding us every ache, pain, bad call and agonizing moments of the last six World Cups. It's all there, bollock stomping, the hand of God, Gazza nearly rapping, wor Michael Owen's ( well he's Man U's now  HAHAHA) leg dissolving before our eyes, Lampard missing the penalty, I  can go on but some of you would rather forget it ever happened. Go on I dare you not to watch, you won't be able to help yourself... World Cup's most shocking moments 

Speaking of rubbish football, did you watch the fat lads kick about for charity? Not a bad match if I do say so myself. Ollie Murs turns out to be a better footballer than a singer and it was nice to see Alan Shearer in full flight. I was annoyed by the presence of one over inflated unfunny omnipresent so called comedian. James Corden was all over the place being his usual well ....annoying self. In case you live under a rock or don't have internet, Corden and Dizzy Rascal have released an official England "song". I say song ,but its just Dizzy  shouting at us into a microphone while Corden does something. They then take tears for fears "Shout" and have a drunken mob sing off key. Do yourself a favour, it's a charity song  right? I'll give you the direct link for the charity and you don't have to listen to this dreck. It's the Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children charity.
Sample lyric, and this is one of the less shit bits.

 “Pull your socks up let’s get physical, We need team work - we don’t need a miracle, We need Rooney in tip top condition, Aaron Lennon down the wing like he’s on a mission, It ain’t no superstition, its not a luck thing, Rio Ferdinand nobody can muck with him!”

PS Rio is out already. Also, a good World Cup song is supposed to be terrace friendly, catchy and have an easy to sing hook. Looks like Vindaloo will do yet again. 

In a complete lurch back to drama, Luther has set up it's finale for next week. Poor Luther over the last two eps has seen Alice "take care" of any problems he may have, only to see his old partner set him up by  apparently killing his wife and making it look like Luther did it. Will he save his reputation, will he and Alice go to a cosy love nest in an insane asylum somewhere in Midsommer? No one can tell, I would bet  they do, but I also said the excellent impressionist would win BGT . 

Staying on a serious note for just a minute, if you missed any of these, watch before it's too late. Part of the Dunkirk programmes.... Dan Snow Tells the story of the Little Ships and in an older special veterans speak of the reality of the retreat in A Soldier's Story.

Graham Norton must be concentrating on his chat show now, because his guests last Monday, Chris Rock ,Joshua Jackson and Diana Vickers seemed to be on top form . Chris Rock was genuinely funny and seemed aware of the format and silliness expected. He was a bit careful at first  but soon opened up and cruised into comfort zone like he'd been on dozens of times. Joshua Jackson the Canadian, seemed so at home I was sure he wasn't just passing through. Looking forward to the truly over the top ep that is surely in the works complete with eccentric guests, odd fashions from the internet and perhaps a new remote control device thar humiliates audience members. Who can forget the the tail wager belt complete with code cards? 

This last week has been a bit of a strange one, we saw the last two iconic cranes at the old Swan Hunter ship yards in Wallsend blown up, a mad taxi driver shot his way through Cumbria and I had to set aside time for someone very close to me who is now awaiting surgery. Sometimes life just steps in and reminds you there is more to life than football or telly. On the bright side, my favourite programmes cleaned up at the TV Baftas.. Thick of it, The Inbetweeners and even Armstrong and Miller, which has it's moments. Particularly like Thick of it writer Armando Iannucci thanking ConDemn co PM Nick Clegg for "for completely destroying our plans for the next series" 

Please check out Pride Radio North-East UK Launching on FM for 28 days from Monday 21st June 2010 until 18th July 2010. They will be announcing their presenter line up very soon and all the details will be at www.prideradio.co.uk or you can have a sneak listen here .  Crakin party music!!!!

Last bit of business, World Cup time, England will surely win, we won't be depressed for a week THIS time, or we might, but we will need to eat. I'm giving you some easy recipes for the World Cup, but you'll need time to get the ingredients for these tasty easy tubs of real food even the most inept person can make . You can thank me later  World's best spinach dip ever , Smoked salmon dip, Blue cheese dip, Dill dip . Spend the money you save on some good beer. 


See you Friday or Saturday , get the provisions in and make sure your flag is hung up in time. Hums Three Lions quietly to himself as he presses POST.

Britain's got X-Factor or how Darth Cowell ruined music

There is something wrong on board the good ship UK music and entertainment scene. You can feel a feint miasmic sense of fear and rebellion in the air all about the Empire. Darth Cowel might well be as weak as he will ever be, and the time is now to destroy the Death Star X-Factor . Somewhere out there in countless Ice caves and isolated trading posts, real singers, dancers, comedians, and bands toil away in anonymity, honing their craft for the day their hard worked for experience counts for something.  Circus freaks , animal acts and acrobats have been exiled to Berlin St-Petersburg and Cirque du Soliel in hopes of getting any respect at all. Rock, country, Jazz, traditional folk and Celtic have been effectively banned from the airwaves for the better part of a decade. The last time the Christmas number one wasn't an X factor clone is so long ago we can barely remember it ( except of course for Rage against the Machine last year).  If it weren't for a vibrant gay music scene, there might not be anything to listen to at all. Oh aye, there are a few glimmers here and there. Imelda May, Paulo Nutini, Lily Allen and Amy Winehouse, have all swum against the tide, but in some cases only after having had to work in the shadows for years or having daddy shout at the record company till they gave in. In the case of the the Arctic Monkeys, they went outside the box and used youtube and My space to sell themselves from nowhere. Bands like Sunderland's Futureheads or Newcastle's Maximo Park depend on regional radio to get them airtime or on speciality stations, if they waited around for mainstream radio and television to pick them up, they would still be waiting.

There is a reason why ACDC and the Rolling Stones are still dropping albums top of the charts 40 years after they first burst on the scene. Current acceptable commercial music as churned out by the likes of Cowell and his partner in crime Louis Walsh , is tepid, inoffensive one trick pony shite designed to please grannies and 14 year old girls. NO ONE else seems to matter here. Under Darth Cowell's regime there has been an almost fanatical eradication of anything not five minutes old or outside the moral dictates of mumsnet. Every time you hear the code words "more contemporary" or the truly deadly words, "too old fashioned", the hand of Simon has spoken and another performer has been put in his or her place. How dare you be true to your roots or do anything the audience would recognize or be challenged by? And then there are the judges, Amanda  Yet to be funny Holden, Piers "oily twat" Morgan, the other Minogue, and Louis Walsh, the four Horsemen of the musical apocalypse help their master Sauron dumb down the great British public by declaring things like " I've never seen anything like that before". Well you would luvs if you got out more, and it would be 100 times better than the delusional amateurs you have allowed to audition. There's also the classic, you're brilliant, a sign of the future! I love you. Usually reserved for some skinny girl doing a bad impersonation of Beyonce Knowles or some lads  pretending to be the next Take That. It would not be fair of me to say that 14 year old girls don't have any taste, they may well do, but they'll never know if they are only served up a steady stream of Jades, Diversitys and West Lifes.The judges and Simon have to let the gates open to other styles and cultures that live in the UK and have been there in some cases for hundreds of years. UK music once used to be the fountain-head that all other music copied, now it slavishly copies a steadily narrowing type of song and dance styles from the USA.

If acts like U2 , Eurhytmics or Bowie had to try to bubble up for the first time today, they would be eating pot noodle and living at Mum's for another decade. In a napster age where it is harder and harder to make a decent living as an artist, real talent is being pushed down in favour of instant pliable good looking lip synch puppets. These so called performers are taken raw with little or no training, flashed up and tossed to the wolves for a few minutes of fame and all the real money goes into the hands of the promoters.... you guessed it Simon Cowell and friends.

Cowell and co are not solely to blame, ITV and networks like it are liable as well, in as much as they tolerate the plethora of programmes with essentially the same format and the same judges where they treat the contestants/auditionees like so much jello to toss around as they play, let's annoy Simon by putting through Jedward or the Jackson miming pig. I understand that ratings need a few car wrecks, but frankly it has gone way to far. Prospects with so little talent they are more likely to be mistaken for audience members  come up and are stroked into thinking that the ear bleeding rendition of "You lift me up" was almost as good as the original. The socially disabled strange person who thinks they are brilliant  because mates have told them so and they took lessons all week before coming, get upset , when Cowell finally has a moment of clarity and tells them they're terrible. It wouldn't happen if the pre screening  weeded out the frankly horrifying alleged talents that, burp, break pencils with their butt cheeks, play flute badly, sing off key, or are just plain awful. I know ratings... BTW, do you think the people at BGT thought that the Queen wanted to see a man burp?

But surely we'd all still watch if the acts were so much better? There in lies the rub, even if they did only allow the good  acts through AND expanded the scope and styles of music and dance, there would only ever be enough decent acts to do a series or two before putting the programme away for 5 or 6 years. You have to hit a wall where the well runs dry. Then what? you get the embarrassing Search for the next Dorothy or the poor sap who will represent Britain in Eurovision. One girl had never sung before and was qualified only because she was fit and  was discovered walking by the studio by one of Andrew Lloyd Wizard's minions. The fact she nearly made it is even scarier.

Id like to also tackle the whole issue of so called street dance. Before you all send me angry e-mails, I respect anybody who excels at their dance style , even if I don't like it. But the phenomenon of three years running having a street dance act win is beginning to grate on me. Here in essence is the problem. There is a limited audience for street dance. The adult population of Britain and the world has a wider taste pallet than essentially the same dozen quickly repeated steps to music that is pre-recorded and not credited to the artists who performed them. With respect, you should look at music hall, Jazz, Ballet, Broadway, Polish mountain dancers, Russians , Bulgarians Asians and all sorts of Africans to see truly complicated and entertaining dance moves that will make street dance look like amateur hour. The fact that Cowell and co have never seen this or consider it too old fashioned, keeps street dance going. Besides that, street dance unlike  ballet, Jazz, Broadway,  folk and other dance styles is vigorous and more likely to injure a performer. The life span of such a performer is very short and  given the current conditions in entertainment, not a profitable career choice.  Even if we accept that one or two street dance troops , who are street in name only, can survive as viable acts,. I point you to Riverdance, a single show that dominated an entire genre. Again , given the choice, if the proverbial 14 year old girls with mobiles had the wider variety in front of them, they would choose the more spectacular and talent heavy dance forms currently being kept from them.

Speaking of dance , classic, Jazz and West end, competitions just for dancers are no better. If you have any experience, been to school too long, have a real choreographer, or are currently in an off off off off broadway production of any kind, you won't get on the show. The winners go on to steal your spots in the big productions where a barely talented, inexperienced dancer singer is fronting a show with  100 angry back up dancers and singers who are better but forced to be in the chorus , because the girl up front won a competition. Would you rather see Catherine Zeta Jones or the new Dorothy, whoever she is?  Which one is worth £100 a seat and which is a bit of a rip off?

It's at a point where performers are nothing more than game show victims who get a gift bag and their parking validated. If you manage to stick it out for most of the full 12 week run of such a programme , you should be paid like any other legitimate performer. These mostly delusional amateurs are used and discarded as quickly, usually seeing little of the money their appearances generated for the production company or the network. This voluntary slavery for the stupid is the worst kind of abuse and it's keeping legitimate artists who should be being showcased, miles away from any stage.

In short, if you are any good at anything , in the UK there is a system to channel you from young person to seasoned performer . This system has produced exemplary singers, dancers, musicians, actors, writers and all round performers. If you have a child who is talented, be honest with them, take the time and use the system that has been there in some cases since before Shakespeare. There is no replacement for hard work or training, nor is there any excuse in a country as old and as varied to limit the choice of musical and dance style to just the one. Doing that nearly killed tweed and it's killing music now.


Let me point out one last thing. These acts that we are supposed to be giving a huge break to, must be good enough to be part of a decent variety circuit that is supported by television and local music hall type places. Variety television has been struggling of late due to poor choices in booking and perhaps the presenters. So that leaves us an act that can sell singles, fill auditoriums across the country at £30 or £40 a ticket minimum for an entire 90 minute show.  The acts that benefit will be ones that have some genuine variety , a story to tell and personality.

So what about BGT super week? we have the final 10 , who by the way under normal circumstances would be 20, and go on for weeks yet, being dropped one a week. But this year it's the World Cup and I think Simon Cowell doesn't want to do it any more.Lets look at the finalists.

Kieran Gaffney Musician Little drummer boy: Boy in search of a band to play for in a few years, won't win .

Liam McNally Singer The little lad with the big voice: Sadly should have been sent to voice classes and a choir years ago. As it is, his voice will break and his career beyond BGT will be short and inglorious.Boys and girls like him can be spotted in time and trained if the parents just know where to look.


Janey Cutler Singer The great grandmother with the giant voice. She could get a small following but will be dropped like a hot potato by Syco the moment she is yesterday's news.

Twist and Pulse Dance act The pioneers of Streetomedy. Pioneers of nothing, and yet another of a long string of street dancers who will only flourish in multi act venues and cannot sustain a 90 minute show of their own.

Christopher Stone Singer The singing accountant: He's al right but he won't sell tickets, cd's or singles.


Paul Burling Impressionist The man of a hundred voices.: My pick to win, but judging by my track record, he'll be lucky to get mid table. But I hope I'm wrong. 20 years honing his craft, he deserves respect and he is a genuinely entertaining person.


Connected Singers The boy band of tomorrow: I hate boy bands, but I suppose they may give JLS a run for their money. Even if they don't win they have already won. Would have loved to see them over 12 weeks... Look at all the money you're throwing away Simon.



Tina and Chandi Animal act Best friends, dance partners, soulmates: My personal favourite to charm the crowd and they may get a lot more work in telly now. Good luck Chandi, Another one we would have loved to see for much longer.


Spelbound Gymnasts Gravity defying feats: First to admit I can't do any of that stuff, but there are acts worldwide, some as close as France who are far better and more established that will blow these guys out of the water. They won't get any work in the proper variety circuit until they get much better.


Tobias Mead Dance act The street dancer with the liquid limbs: Lord spare me.... another one who could not sustain an entire show by himself. His career will be limited by the BGT travelling circus this summer then goodbye .

The truly sad thing is that a number of acts that would have benefited from a full normal run over the summer would have been ....

Kevin Cruise, camp cruise singer and all round entertainer, So bad he was good. un like Jedward, he knew was a bit of a joke and consequently brilliant.

Stevie Starr , swallower and Shane Mcgowan of circus freaks, was impossible to take your eyes off him...

Neil Fullard Sinatra channeller and bouncer. Would have been great for the the run and on the back of it go onto Benidorm to entertain the masses there.

Kev Orkian would have done some great stuff given the chance, but we'll never know now.

The Arrangement... Posh Britain's next big thing. I honestly think they will be around far longer than Herr Cowell thinks.

Enjoy the show, Hope for the best but don't be too disappointed if a performer with no need to sing, compose, play an instrument, engage the audience or otherwise be as well rounded as Bruce Forsythe , Ant and Dec or the Pythons wins. At this rate, it looks like the whole genre is dying a deserved death. We can only hope what comes after this will be a lot better.

If BGT has a theme song . it's To dream the impossible dream. Far too many poor fools cue up completely devoid of talent , filled with sob stories and whose sole purpose is to be humiliated by the judges. I know the right thing to do is send out scouts and find genuinely ready talent to promote. Talent that has paid it's dues, talent that will make for some seriously hard choices and prove that Britain does indeed have talent. However, I don't see that happening any time soon.

Back on Monday with the regular post.... Thanks for reading.