Justifying The Unjustifiable

*My blog pieces are grammatically correct and I do not need to resort to any spell check. Consequently, purely in terms of English, this collectively places my blog easily amongst the top ten of blogs for proper use of the English language. Aren't you glad that you have paid a visit to here, you lucky, lucky people?!

**This beautiful blogsite is primarily a vehicle for uploading extracts from my many informative, insightful, insurrectionary, quality reference books. I wish for this site to raise my profile amongst the chattering classes, so that maybe one day I too can be invited onto radio discussion shows to offload my twopence worth. At present, British radio and television shows are over-populated with the same old talking heads. Is Matthew Parris really the voice of England? Does Stephen Fry hold the monopoly on wisdom?

***Also, unlike many attention-seeking uber-egos out there who expect everyone to follow them, if you follow me [RonGattway] on Twitter, I will return the favour. That is a promise.

****Finally, I am extremely grateful for all of the visitors to my site, but don't just browse at my book extracts, please purchase the publications that are showcased. They would make ideal presents for your family, friends, and even worst enemies. I can even arrange a discount if you contact me.

My undying love to you all,

Yours insincerely

'Gary Watton' xo

Friday, 28 February 2014

Double Standards From The Sinners!

DOUBLE STANDARDS FROM THE 'SINNERS'
In Norn Iron, folk sometimes refer to members and devotees of Sinn Fein as the Shinners. At least when we're being polite, we do. However, maybe Sinners is much more apt. Along with many people on both sides of the Irish Sea, I have been horrified by the recent revelations that IRA suspects have been given written assurances that there is an amnesty on the unsolved crimes that they have been implicated in. It's all very well absolving the Irish republican terrorists of responsibility for a catalogue of atrocities and assorted offences, but surely the same standards must then be applied to the perpetrators of Bloody Sunday.
Don't get me wrong. The more that I've launched my own personal inquiry into the terrible events of the 30th of January 1972 [a much cheaper inquiry than the publicly-financed version], the more that I've been horrified by the trigger-happy soldiers who shot unarmed people in cold blood and sometimes from behind. The greatest tragedy of all is that there have been countless, yes countless, acts of compassion, courtesy, heroism, and humanity from the British security forces over the course of 'the troubles' but they never got reported or placed under the microscope of public scrutiny. Instead, the actions of the Paras totally undermined all that and provided the Brit-haters and Brit-begrudgers literally with the ammunition to embark upon a three-decade campaign of wickedness against the British citizens of Ulster and the rest of the UK. The Irish republicans have always harboured hostility towards the big bad brutal Brits but Bloody Sunday kind of legitimised their antipathy. In much the same way as the Islamic extremists truly wish to regard their American and British foes as worthy of their vile behaviour, so too the Irish militants share a similar perverted stance towards all agents of British rule.
The thing is that I now have much sympathy for the plight of the Derry families and extended community who were subject to this act of unacceptable aggression on that notorious winter's afternoon. Furthermore, I even buy into the rationale behind a thirty-two county state. I find it ludicrous after all that Ulster unionists would want to remain united to a 'mainland' that is remote both geographically and emotionally from the bothersome six counties of Northern Ireland. I mean, what on earth do the protestant, working-class loyalists of Norn Iron have in common with the middle-class, Middle Englanders of the shires and the home counties? Such folk are poles apart. Furthermore, where is the common ground between the almost exclusively, white smalltowners of Ulster and the cosmopolitan, multi-cultural burghers of L'Angleterre? Given the fact that the neanderthals of Ulster are so committed to their own culture, it seems illogical that they could accommodate a plethora of different cultures which are requisite in the large urban centres of the UK? Ultimately, the Norn Irish citizens have more in common with their southern counterparts, more than they care to admit. Even the age-old scaremongering about Dublin rule equates to Rome rule or Pope rule is now sheer and utter drivel. The Republic of Ireland has ventured away from its theocracy towards a secular society, partially driven by public disdain at the scandal-ridden catholic church, whose bunglings and incompetence have been much closer to the Craggy Island parody than even the writers of 'Father Ted' dared to imagine. The folks north of the border have little to fear from unity, other than financial meltdown! Given the recent economic incompetence of Paddy the Irishman, this remains the biggest deterrent to the re-unification of the Emerald Isle.
Right, so we have established that I am broadly in sympathy with Irish republicanism and with the victims of Bloody Sunday. However, the Irish republican constituency then proceeds to shoot itself in the foot with its insistence upon retribution against the English soldiers whilst shrugging their shoulders at the recent acquittal of John Downey and the news that Provo suspects will be 'above the law' in terms of the unsolved wickedness of past decades. Funny how the 'oppressed' Oirish demand their pound of flesh when they feel aggrieved but then equally call for forgiveness and no prosecution of their vile 'volunteers'. This is complete hypocrisy in all its ugliness.
The slippery Downey recently observed the well-rehearsed twofold policy of terrorist suspects.
Firstly, he denied responsibility. It's a pity that such heroes cannot be man enough to admit their culpability. Instead, they delude themselves that if they confess to their priest or to God behind closed doors, that this washes away the Shinner's sins. I guess that the bottom line is that in the affluent west, it simply won't do to spend an extended spell in prison as everyone is in the business of preserving their quality of life and keeping up with the Joneses or the O'Joneses perhaps. A stint in clink seriously jeopardises one's custodianship or aspirations towards another Chelsea tractor or semi-detached residence. So much for the socialism of James Connolly. The modern Irish republican is a capitalist wannabe. He hasn't the honesty or integrity to admit his part in Irish 'acts of war' because the family's place in middle-class society is at stake. Who says that crime doesn't pay? 
Secondly, Downey, we are informed, is a committed follower of the peace process. This is another piece of skullduggery practised by all terror suspects in Norn Iron. They are briefed by their 'brief' to tell the judge that they are innocent and that they are now devoted to the peace process. This double whammy, it seems, is sufficient to acquit any Ulster terrorist nowadays. Why bother arresting them now in the first place if they are such blameless pacifists?!
Oh it all stinks. The British soldiers must be prosecuted [or persecuted?] while a plethora of republican suspects go scot free. Where is the justice and equality there? It is still repugnant for many people that the past unsolved atrocities of the thirty years [or thirty thousand tears] conflict must be whitewashed while any British wrongdoing must be dealt with severely. Even more laughable is the Irish republican insistence upon their misbehaviour merely being excused away as 'acts of war' while the British response of shoot to kill in this same 'war' is deemed as beyond the pale. If the Irish republicans regard bravely shooting people from behind, or burying unarmed and innocent women, or bombing children in English shopping centres as legitimate acts of war, then how can they complain [as they interminably do] that the actions of Special Branch or the SAS are unjustifiable. It seems that the British were expected to treat the conflict as if it were a cricket match, with a whole host of rules and regulations to observe, whilst the enemy guerillas could run amok in west Belfast or south Armagh. Well, it's just not cricket. In fact, strictly speaking, it wasn't a war either. In the accepted sense of the word, a 'war' is a conflict between two states. However, the Republic of Ireland never declared war on the UK and indeed 'colluded' [that word again] with John Bull in their joint efforts to counter the insurgency of the Brit-haters. In fact, the Irish republicans have been getting away with the same, twisted terminology for way too long. Not only is it erroneous to speak in terms of a war, as if it were some military contest between two states, but just as preposterous has been the republican insistence upon 'collusion' between the British state and loyalist terrorists. I am not denying the practise of the latter. Far from it. However, has it never occurred to anybody to describe the teamwork between the Provos and Sinn Fein as itself a grand act of collusion? Ah yes, it's okay for them to collude and shoot to kill, but dearie me, the Brits dare not shoot to kill or collude. Smell the hypocrisy folks. It absolutely reeks.
I cannot quite decide who is the more repulsive: the union jack dinosaurs or their polar opposites in the militant republican ranks. Between the two of them, they seem to be in league to completely ruin any opportunity for the normalisation of the north.
Disgusted
Gary Watton; commentator

Tuesday, 11 February 2014

New speed-dating venture [SEE ALSO http://firstimpressionsdating.blog.com]

A new speed-dating company has been established. Of course there are several in operation, and good luck to them. However, this latest incarnation's mission is to take speed-dating to various towns and provinces, and to demonstrate that it's not merely a vehicle for city slickers, and that such events don't always have to be held in expensive and posh venues. The company is called First Impressions and their events take place on any night of the week and typically last from 8pm to 10pm, so don't feel that you have to stay out until the early hours. You won't be ruining your work routine next morning. Instead, you will have a chance to go out for a few hours during the week, without having to restrict your socialising to the weekend. There are a number of speed-dating companies operating at present. First Impressions are not aiming to compete against them or to undermine them. Check out their website at http://firstimpressionsdating.blog.com

Here is the itinerary for March for First Impression's speed-dating events:
The next First Impressions outing will be held at
Venue: Everglades Hotel; Prehen Road; L'Derry
Date: Friday 7th March 2014
Time: The event will begin at 7pm sharp.
Format: A series of five minute 'dates'
Age range: 25 to 45
There will be one interval of fifteen minutes.

The next First Impressions outing will be held at
Venue: the Ramada Hotel; Portrush
Date: Saturday 8th March 2014
Time: The event will begin at 8pm sharp.
Format: A series of five minute 'dates'
Age range: 25 to 45
There will be one interval of fifteen minutes.

The next First Impressions outing will be held at
Venue: the Eryl Mor Hotel; Bangor; North Wales
Date: Monday 10th March 2014
Time: The event will begin at 8pm sharp.
Format: A series of five minute 'dates'
Age range: 25 to 45
There will be one interval of fifteen minutes.

The next First Impressions outing will be held at
Venue: La Tasca Restaurant; Broadgate; London
Date: Tuesday 11th March 2014
Time: The event will begin at 6.30pm sharp.
Format: A series of five minute 'dates'
Age range: 25 to 45
There will be one interval of fifteen minutes.

The next First Impressions outing will be held at
Venue: Lucozade Powerleague; Newham; London
Date: Wednesday 12th March 2014
Time: The event will begin at 8pm sharp.
Format: A series of five minute 'dates'
Age range: 25 to 45
There will be one interval of fifteen minutes.

The next First Impressions outing will be held at
Venue: the Royal Hotel; Bangor; County Down
Date: Thursday 13th March 2014
Time: The event will begin at 7pm sharp.
Format: A series of five minute 'dates'
Age range: 25 to 45
There will be one interval of fifteen minutes.

The next First Impressions outing will be held at
Venue: Lucozade Powerleague; Hamilton
Date: Monday 17th March 2014
Time: The event will begin at 8pm sharp.
Format: A series of five minute 'dates'
Age range: 25 to 45
There will be one interval of fifteen minutes.

The next First Impressions outing will be held at
Venue: the Portmann Hotel; Kilmarnock
Date: Tuesday 18th March 2014
Time: The event will begin at 8pm sharp.
Format: A series of five minute 'dates'
Age range: 25 to 45
There will be one interval of fifteen minutes.

The next First Impressions outing will be held at
Venue: the Parkway Social Club; Middlesbrough
Date: Monday 24th March 2014
Time: The event will begin at 8pm sharp.
Format: A series of five minute 'dates'
Age range: 25 to 45
There will be one interval of fifteen minutes.

The next First Impressions outing will be held at
Venue: Harrogate Cricket Club; Harrogate
Date: Tuesday 25th March 2014
Time: The event will begin at 8pm sharp.
Format: A series of five minute 'dates'
Age range: 25 to 45
There will be one interval of fifteen minutes.

The next First Impressions outing will be held at
Venue: the Romany; Northampton
Date: Wednesday 26th March 2014
Time: The event will begin at 8pm sharp.
Format: A series of five minute 'dates'
Age range: 25 to 45
There will be one interval of fifteen minutes.

Monday, 27 January 2014

SCUM by the commentator Gary Watton

I was watching one of my favourite films the other night, 'The French Connection'. There is a remarkable scene mid-film in which Charnier and his heroin-smuggling associate are both seated in a New York restaurant, indulging themselves in helpings of fine wine and cuisine, like a couple of respectable bourgeois gents. However, this duo represent evil. Across the road, sheltering from an icy cold winter's day in the Big Apple is detective Popeye Doyle and his partner Cloudy Russo. These guys purportedly represent the forces for good, namely the law. Well, the good guys are huddled in a doorway, drinking tea from a plastic cup. This scene is something of a microcosm of modern society as it expertly reminds us how perverse our world is. The criminals are enjoying an extravagant lifestyle while the law-abiding, hard-working souls suffer hardship by comparison. This regrettable disparity must not be allowed to prevail - but it does.
Meanwhile, I was particularly struck by a characteristic outpouring of vitriol from Kelvin Mackenzie, the fomer tabloid newspaper editor, who was appearing on 'Pienaar's Politics' on Radio Five Dead. Motormouth Mackenzie described the looting and rioting perpetrators during the street disturbances of early August 2011 as "scum." There may be some validity to such a remark, but I would venture to suggest that such an unenviable epithet need not be confined to the so-called 'feral underclass'.
Fast-forwarding to recent days, the British nation (and beyond) has been treated to the unedifying spectacle of Nigella Lawson and her ex-husband Charles Saatchi having their dirty linen washed very publicly, at Isleworth Crown Court to be precise. From the court proceedings we learn that Charles Saatchi appears to be a horrible, nasty, vindictive megalomaniac (perhaps not a new discovery for those in the know). Futhermore, we are also informed that Nigella's pampered lifestyle features a regular intake of such substances as cocaine. Now, Nigella isn't the first and won't be the last rich bitch to partake of some illegal, naughty 'medication', so her misbehaviour is scarcely exceptional. However, what is more revealing is just how trashy the lives of the wealthy and famous really are. I guess that there have been sufficient tabloid exposures since Profumo's scandal in 1963 to reinforce this. Maybe indifferent Joe Public has grown immune to the shock value of such sensational stuff. Well, for me, the sorry episode of Lawson and Saatchi's private lives perfectly encapsulates the fact that when you strip away the glossy veneer of the opulence of the rich and assorted celebrities, one finds murky, trashy lives lurking underneath. I would therefore argue that people who present themselves in slick suits, shirt, and tie, and elegant frocks and gowns are probably at least as scummy as the 'feral underclass'.
Mick Jagger once sang "raise your glass to the hard-working people/say a prayer for the lowly at birth" in the excellent 'Salt Of The Earth'. I totally concur. Meanwhile, it is high time that people woke up to the fact that our so-called superiors and the high-fliers in our society and expenses-claiming fraudulent members of the Establishment are indeed just as worthy of the word "scum." Of course, one could go further and state that our greedy financiers, politicos , and bankers are on a par with pedophiles - or is such a comparison too harsh and disrespectful towards child molesters?

Friday, 3 January 2014

UB40: A Critique [by the author, historian, and musicologist Gary Watton]

A couple of months ago I rescued about eighty of my old vinyl albums from almost ten years of captivity in my late mother's attic. (Actually, she's never late nor even dead.) Anyhow, I have proceeded to re-acquaint myself with the music that entertained me during my 'bedroom years' of bygone days of yore. In the last ten days I have bravely endured my collection of UB40 LPs. Regrettably, I now find such product rather dreary and uninspiring from a combo that I once held in the highest esteem in my mistaken youth.
What strikes me most about this Brummie outfit is the unremitting politicising, pontificating, preaching, and downright gloom that characterises the large majority of their own compositions. They basically set the tone on their debut album with the delightfully cheerful 'Burden Of Shame' (a critique of British imperialism) and well ever since, their output has been almost exclusively a musical rant. Each track appears to remind us that capitalism is wicked and poverty is wicked and Apartheid is wicked and inequality is wicked and racism is wicked. Oh come on fellas. Change the record, please. You don't have to perpetually persuade me of such dogma. The truth is: I believe you, and indeed most of your listeners are presumably equally sympathetic. I doubt whether the UBs feature prominently amongst the musical preferences of bankers, financiers, and racists!
The only occasions when UB40 mercifully strayed from the tiresome evangelising was when they ventured into the territory of cover versions of classic reggae love songs on the outstanding 'Labour Of Love' project and its inferior successor, 'Labour Of Love II'. There has probably been a mark III and maybe even a IV. Happily, I am blissfully unaware of the group's post-1990 material, with the exception of the awful karaoke rendition of Elvis's 'Can't Help Falling In Love' (a 1993 UK chart-topper which just about sums up the poor musical taste of the British record-buying public.) Oh yes, I did chance upon a new UB40 offering from 2005, 'Who You Fighting For?' which the Mail On Sunday (or possibly the Daily Malice) cruelly supplied as a freebie to every lucky (or unlucky) reader. Not surprisingly (to quote another west Midlands singer, Mr Robert Plant) "the song remains the same". Unfortunately, the Campbells and their cronies just cannot resist the temptation to revisit the same old themes in almost every track.
Not surprisingly, my favourite UB40 tunes hail from their earliest days when they treated the listener to a whole array of fine reggae instrumentals on their debut 'Signing Off'. Then they atoned for the typically depressing 'Present Arms' project by releasing the marvellous (and largely undiscovered gem) of 'Present Arms In Dub' when the lads jettisoned the left-wing wailing and merely provided the tunes in instrumental dub versions.
In my semi-humble opinion, the UBs missed a trick when they failed to take a leaf out of the book of their contemporaries Madness or such luminaries as the Kinks by providing observations of modern life and the quirky individuals that they encountered along the way. Whilst Madness delivered the anecdotal 'Bed And Breakfast Man' and 'Mrs Hutchinson', UB40 were providing the non-joyful 'One In Ten' and 'Don't Do The Crime'. However, don't get me wrong. UB40 have composed the occasional gem. 'Tyler' was a worthwhile tribute to an unjustly convicted murderer, Gary Tyler. However, their song-writing formula almost always seems to be confined to pouring scorn at the same old injustices. The gang rarely stretch their creativity towards mini-dramas and soap operas about everyday people and places and events. The guys may be uneducated [a fact that they certainly don't hide] but you don't need to have gone to Oxbridge to be able to compose a variety of very different songs about a whole range of non-political subjects.
When UB40 did wander into film-making with their half-hour 'Labour Of Love' movie, the result was distinctly drab. The flick lacked any originality and culminated in a scene of police brutality and racism that even the most ardent Trotskyite dramatist might not have conceived for a Channel Four late-night production. The only redeeming feature was the glorious video to the perennial favourite, 'Red Red Wine' in which Ali comes to the pub to meet the woman of his dreams, only to find her arrive afterwards with his brother [and rival]. As if that isn't bad enough, Ali gets his car keys nicked whilst being hoodwinked at the bar by a couple of chancers, masquerading as friends. All of this would be enough to drive anyone to drink, and Ali C doesn't disappoint, as he ends the tune doing a fine impersonation of a drunk, down on his luck, being helped home by his Dad. T'was superb stuff.
For me, UB40 were okay musically until they added the brass sounds of the Tenyue brothers in the mid-80s which only succeeded in drowning out Robin's lead guitar and Mickey Virtue's fine keyboards. Admittedly, the big brass sound of the poptastic 'If It Happens Again' was a glorious exception, but thereafter the band just got submerged in an over-reliance on brass instrumentation.
Sorry UB40, but I have long since fallen out of love with you. Perhaps this is symptomatic of a 'maturing' codger who is no longer easily impressed by anyone or anything, musical or otherwise.
Yours Insincerely,
Gary Watton (a former fan)

My UB40 albums and my favourite song on the LP:
Signing Off (1980) - King
Present Arms (1981) - Don't Let It Pass You By
Present Arms In Dub (1981) - The Return Of Dr X
UB44 (1982) - The Prisoner
UB40 Live (1982) - Sardonicus
Labour Of Love (1983) - She Caught The Train
Geffery Morgan (1984) - D.U.B.
Baggariddim (1985) - Demonstrate by Admiral Jerry
Rat In The Kitchen (1986) - The Elevator
UB40 (1988) - Where Did I Go Wrong?
Labour Of Love II (1989) - Kingston Town

Thursday, 2 January 2014

England's Poor Starts In Australia by G Watton

England's perpetual woes in Australia [a few notable exceptions aside]
all appear to stem from an inability to hit the ground running in the
first test of each series. Or, if that sounds too simplistic, then
there is a massive body of evidence that reinforces the apparent fact
that England go missing at the business end of the Ashes which is
actually the first three tests and then only arise from their slumber
when a series is done and dusted, and the Poms proceed to console
themselves with triumph in a so-called 'dead rubber'. To be slightly
fair to England, there is no Australian cricket XI past, present, or
future that will happily concede defeat to England in any test match,
irrespective of whether the Ashes is still at stake or not.

However, the horrendous truth prevails that England simply do not
excel at the outset of many overseas test series, and this is patently
the case in Australia. If one looks back [in anger] at England's last
nineteen test series in Australia, the tourists have dismally only
recorded a victory in two opening tests in a spell dating back to
1945. This shocking statistic needs to be addressed and remedied
sooner rather than later, or Australia can look forward to re-visiting
their growing tendency of settling an Ashes series at the third
skirmish in Perth, long before the tests arranged for the hallowed
venues of Melbourne and Sydney even appear on the horizon.
Furthermore, equally of grave concern for the English cricketing
contingent is that since 1900, the English visitors have only twice
lost the first test of an Ashes series in Australia and bounced back
to win the series, achieving this cricketing equivalent of Halley's
Comet in 1911 and 1954 - and not since! In future England needs to
face up to the perils of the first test and recognise that
historically when they go behind in a series in Australia, they stay
behind, and indeed go further behind.

Whether this all indicates a lack of preparation ahead of the first
contest is open to question. Surely if England are flopping in the
first battle in Brisbane, the logic must be to begin in Australia one
week earlier the next time. Regrettably, England's hapless cricket
warriors are all too often engaged in one-day internationals for much
of September or first-class fixtures at the tail-end of the County
Championship. This leaves our weary troops only a few weeks in October
to recover. Is this adequate? History would suggest otherwise.

Alternatively, there ought to be an argument proposed for England
playing a pre-Ashes warm-up test in New Zealand or the Indian
sub-continent en route to their Ashes commitments. If England are
going to maintain their time-honoured bad habit of being all too rusty
at the start of a winter's test series, then let that
under-performance be exposed in a pre-Ashes test, before the main
course is served, and England end up well and truly cooked in Perth,
long before the Christmas turkey.


ENGLAND'S RECORD IN THE FIRST ASHES TEST IN AUSTRALIA SINCE 1945:
The following is an appalling chronology of 11 defeats, six draws, and only two wins!
2013 Lost
2010 Drew
2006 Lost
2002 Lost
1998 Drew
1994 Lost
1990 Lost
1986 WON
1982 Drew
1979 [non-Ashes series] Lost
1978 WON
1974 Lost
1970 Drew
1965 Drew
1962 Drew
1958 Lost
1954 Lost
1950 Lost
1946 Lost

Friday, 6 December 2013

God, I Forgive You

I am now the wrong side of forty and I do not have the blessings of a partner. I do not have the blessings of any children either. In fact, I live in a world of almost silence as the number of people that I communicate with each day can easily be counted on the fingers of one hand. Admittedly, I had a 'respectable' career once upon a time but I ruined it, but the God of second chances has chosen not to furnish me with a second chance. I also used to have a lot of money but through the march of time I frittered it away on gambling and on property investments that backfired. Again the God of second chances has apparently gone missing. You also allowed my daddy to be taken away from me at the age of fifty from cancer. I am left with few friends, no brothers, no car, no nothing. You even sent your son to die a horrible, torturous death on the cross apparently because I am such a bad person, thereby making me feel guilty that Jesus had to suffer such an agonising ordeal. You expect me to sit in church and suffer folk who humour me and patronise me [while inside they are thinking "Thank God that I'm not in his sad shoes".]
Maybe I didn't sing loud enough in church. Maybe I didn't pray in the right tone of voice all those numerous times when You refused to grant my prayer requests. Maybe I didn't put enough money in the collection plate. Maybe I'm the only person who ever went to bible study and spoke impressively, but whose life has been a paragon of hypocrisy. Gee, I must be the only person in world history whose Christianity was a bunch of empty words. [Surely not?!] Maybe my angels who have apparently been sent to watch over me aren't up to the job. Maybe when I 'repented' and said sorry, I didn't really mean it. Maybe I'm just a cruel, evil, nasty son of a bitch, and everyone else around me is a model citizen, a shining beacon of morality and righteousness. [Is everyone else really so terrific and I am so terrible?!]
Oh well, whatever the reason for the absence of your blessings, Father, I forgive You!

Tuesday, 22 October 2013

An All-Ireland Soccer Team Is A Must by the commentator and football historian Gary Watton

The dismal, not to say embarrassing, recent failures of both
Northern Ireland and their counterparts in the Republic of Ireland has
convincingly persuaded me that drastic surgery is required to heal the
sick men of Europe. Passing the managerial baton back and forth to
various hapless managers has clearly not worked on either side of the
border. In defence of the poor, wealthy managers, they can only do so
much with what they are provided with. There is after all no rich
sugar daddy owners or transfer windows at their disposal, so room for
manoeuvre is extremely limited. Northern Ireland in particular is
handicapped by a scarcity of footballing manpower, while in the
Republic, soccer must compete against the popular GAA for the
attention of the young. Furthermore, rugby union throughout the island
probably attracts more youngsters than was the case in previous
decades. Even the profile of Irish cricket has been elevated over the
last half a dozen years by the exploits of the national team at the
cricket World Cup.
     Not surprisingly, the six northern counties is seemingly unable
to supply the footballing superstars of yesteryear. The days when
Northern Ireland could produce high quality performers such as a Best
or a Jennings or a McIlroy are long gone. Nowadays, top English
players are struggling to get selected each week for the top English
teams, so what chance have the humble journeymen of Northern Ireland
got in such circumstances? Consequently, the majority of Northern
Ireland's squad are drawn from mediocre lower league clubs. This
speaks volumes for the calibre of players that we are offering these
days. Where once we had Armstrong or Blanchflower of Tottenham
Hotspur, Neill, Nelson and Rice of Arsenal, and Gregg, McGrath,
McCreery, Nicholl, and Whiteside of Manchester United, we can no
longer foresee the cream of English soccer acquiring Northern Irish
players. Most recent Northern Ireland teams would struggle in the SPL
or the English Championship. Most of the Northern Irish team would
struggle to be known or recognised by the next-door neighbour, let
alone the wider footballing public.
     The solution has to be an all-Ireland one. Regrettably, clinging
on to a separate Northern Ireland team is logic-defying and is a
manifestation of a sectarian undercurrent that will have no truck with
any vestige of Irish unity. This is all the more ridiculous when one
observes that we have a long-standing and thriving tradition of
all-Ireland cricket and rugby union teams. The existence of such
thirty-two counties sporting outfits has not led to the walls caving
in on Northern Ireland or the six counties being invaded by the forces
of the Vatican, so please let sanity prevail and combine the dubious
strengths of the six counties with the rest of the island into an
all-Ireland team. In fact, there was an all-Ireland team until about
1950. It needs to be revived, as two separate teams are merely
hopeless also-rans on the international soccer stage, and any
pipedream that Northern Ireland can revive the glories of 1958 or 1982
is delusional in the extreme.
     So why doesn't the IFA of the six counties and the Republic's FAI
join together in unholy matrimony? I don't know if the FAI has any
burning desire for such a move, but certainly north of the border, the
rationale for remaining separate and adopting a Sinn Fein attitude of
'ourselves alone' is itself irrational. About half of the grassroots
supporters unfortunately view a day or night out at Windsor Park as a
boozing session 'with the lads'. I've seen the loyal Northern Ireland
supporters on a number of occasions congregating at the junction of
Tates Avenue and the Lisburn Road, bedecked with scarves, football
tops, and oh yes the obligatory cans of beer. To remove the
'privilege' of huddling together en masse in south Belfast at various
times in the year would merely deprive certain northern citizens of
the opportunity of a good old piss-up. Mind you, they could still
avail themselves of Dublin's hostelries, which admittedly are
considerably more expensive.
     As for the 'top brass' of the IFA, this organisation will cling
on to its status for dear life. It's a mirror situation of the
northern unionists who would not wish to cede their hegemony at
Stormont and join the ranks in the Dail because they would be
transformed from big fish in a small pond to small fish in a bigger
pond. By the same token, the same political considerations condition
the IFA's attitude. They want to dictate their own neanderthal ideas
about soccer to the six counties. They do not wish to be subordinate
to an all-Ireland body where they would not possess the same
influence. Furthermore, Linfield Football Club has benefited a little
too well from being the hostess of Norn Iron internationals, and so
the unique status of Linfield must be preserved by various
self-interested parties. It simply wouldn't do to merge avec the
Republic's FAI. It might be deemed as an equivalent of turkeys voting
for Christmas.
     However, the bottom line is that toothless Northern Ireland
cannot even overcome the perennial punchbags of Luxembourg. Our
players are merely seconded to lower league clubs. We do not have the
assembly line of future superstars nor the resources. The writing is
on the wall for the IFA. They are but a cabal that desperately avoids
facing the grim reality that their national team is now little more
than the international equivalent of a non-league team. An all-Ireland
soccer team is not another step towards the unification of Ireland nor
an erosion of Ulster's so-called culture. It's a common sense step to
ensure that soccer supporters north and south can have a team worth
cheering on. If we can do it in cricket and rugby union, then why
doesn't soccer step into the brave new world too?