The Artist vs The Athlete

As the classy traditions of Wimbledon and the drama of the World Cup have come to a close, it would seem the peRFect time for me to give my opinions on a subject close to my shins – is sport purely about winning and to what limits should one go to, in order to ensure that they emerge as the champion. Hopefully this piece will allow you, the reader to draw your own conclusion.

When I was younger, I had a competitive spirit to rival any being and believe me, I am the first to say that. If things were not going my way on the field of play, then I would throw a tantrum which on reflection makes me laugh such is the difference in my reaction to defeat now. I used to hate losing much more than I loved the jubilation of victory. Walking off the pitch in a mardy, smashing racquets in frustration and yelling in despair as another smash drifted long.

How the times have changed (well most of my smashes still drift long). I am now able to channel my emotion in a way which does not have negative implications on my performance. When I tell people now of my uncontrollable rage as a child and then a teenager, they gasp with amazement as I really have gone from one extreme to the other.

Rather ironically, I would have more reason now to display this embarrassing and spoilt behaviour such is the level of treatment I receive on a regular basis from the opposition on the football pitch. One of my friends once retorted: “I have never seen a player get kicked as much as you.” I ask myself why it seems to be me who is often the target. Is it because am I skilful? Is it because the opposition is unlikely to get a reaction from me? Is it because I have one of those faces? It is more than likely the latter, but is my face really that bad? Hopefully you can now understand why I made the earlier reference in this being a subject close to my shins and why I am against tactical fouling and gamesmanship.

So how far should one go in order to achieve that winning feeling? There is an art to winning, but more importantly there is an art to playing which I continue to strive for. Sport is ultimately about entertaining and providing something special for the observant eyes of the masses. This is why I will always favour the artist. Messi over Ronaldo, Federer over Nadal, O’Sullivan over Hendry. In each case you could make a strong argument that one is better at his particular sport than the other, but when it comes to making their sport an art, there is no argument.

The little magician, the Swiss maestro and the Rocket constantly make the extraordinary look ordinary. All three possess grace, panache, elegance, an inventive flair and an undoubted natural ability for their respective profession which is why they are loved by crowds wherever they play. They bring you to the edge of your seat and have managed to combine a unthinkable imagination alongside the mental toughness that is required by great champions. 2014 might have been a bad year for ‘the artists’ with all three losing in the biggest finals of their sport, but this does not take away from the joy that their styles continually bring to the viewer.

In sport the winners are entrenched into the pages of sporting greats and the losers quickly fade away into the background. Without question, I value the skill involved in grinding out victory and the mental capacity to dig out your a-game when the pressure pedal is at full throttle – that is what makes a great champion. However, to make something so cut-throat and intense into something so graceful and aesthetically pleasing whilst still being able to emerge triumphant is what elevates a great champion into even higher places.

They make the difficult look ridiculously easy. Every motion is poetic, every stroke is a touch of genius and so often the performance is a masterpiece. Sport will forever be unpredictable and that is what makes it so fascinating. Who knows what the next twelve months will bring. Roll on next year when hopefully the artisan will establish superiority once again. Until then I will attempt to create my own Mona Lisa. Watch out Van Gogh.

Standing Trial

My introverted personality means that without social networking and a small leaflet, I could probably have attended football trials for the England six a side team without anybody knowing. I have known individuals who have talked more about scoring a five-yard tap-in during a friendly match. Then again I guess every dog has its day. However you will discover further on in this blog that last Sunday was anything but a walk in the park.

I have always been grateful for the support received from friends and family over the years in my sporting pursuits and despite playing it down, it was nice to hear other players tell me that I deserved this opportunity. Deep down I have always been confident in my footballing ability, therefore it is not within my nature to wax lyrical about myself should I produce a performance aesthetically pleasing on the naked eye.

Being me I expressed more delight for my good friend Nigel Wallace who himself was also invited to the event. For those who don’t know Nigel, he was on the books of Lincoln City until personal circumstances went completely against him. I have been very fortunate to play with some wonderful footballers, but as far as natural ability goes, Nigel is hard to beat. However, my opinion on natural talent versus the nurturing of talent will come to light another day.

I think we would have had less of a disaster last Sunday if I had cooked Nigel and his girlfriend Jessica (who kindly drove us to the trials) Sunday dinner. Apart from a letter I received three days before the trials, all contact I received from the UK MiniFootball Association was through email. It insinuated that the trials were from 12pm until approximately 1.30pm, so I and Nigel were content in the knowledge that we were going to get an hour and a half’s worth of football in return for making the two hour journey southbound to Stevenage Academy.

To say we left it late leaving Lincoln would be one of the understatements of the day. Sunday mornings are meant for the relaxation of the cranium propped up against the pillow whilst the taste of bacon butties and aroma of fresh coffee swirl through the house. However poor Jessica had to pick up the pieces of a full English disaster due to a miscommunication in the starting time between me and Nigel. For some reason he had it in his head that the trial was from 1pm until 2:30pm so when he suggested that leaving at 10am would allow us plenty of time to cruise down the A1, I didn’t trigger on that in fact this would not be the case.

It was only at about a quarter to eleven as we were strolling along the open road that I looked at my letter and realised that the trials were due to start in just over an hour. To add further concern, the letter stated any player arriving after 11:45 would not be allowed into the trial. At first Jessica and Nigel thought I was delivering another vintage Towler gag, but their initial reaction of impudence was soon replaced by what can only be described as panic combined with disbelief. If anything, Jessica was the most agitated out of the three of us but then again it wasn’t me and Nigel who had to make up the mileage at record breaking speed.

Having said that, she did a commendable job as we arrived in the Stevenage area for pretty much bang on 11:45. Me and Nigel immediately dashed from the car once we had pulled up at the stadium and scurried around the area. We noticed a large sign across the road from the stadium with the words ‘Stevenage Academy’ so we dodged the traffic like you would football cones and sprinted like our lives depended on it. It looked quite the setting as we ran towards an array of finely cut grass and eye-catching astroturf pitches, most of which were filled by coaches in tracksuits delivering professional coaching to youngsters. Surely we couldn’t be at the wrong location?

We frantically looked around for signs and potential personnel who were there for the trial, but this came to no avail. Nigel ran inside to the reception and the chap behind the desk instinctively asked if we were there for the trials. After we informed him we were, the male stated to us that the academy we required was five minutes up the road. The way in which he had asked Nigel instantly if we were there for the trials implied that other players had already been to this place, only to be told they were at the wrong location (in contrast to the details on the letter).

We went further on up the road looking for the supposed academy and we must have been driving round Stevenage for a good forty minutes before we eventually found the place. We were sent from pillar to post by various people and when I called the emergency number and told the lady we were at a Leisure Centre, she asked if it had an astroturf. As this was the first (and hopefully) last time I ever have to go to Stevenage, I told her I did not have a clue and she didn’t really know her bearings in relation to where we needed to be. I thought to myself if the organisers don’t know where we need to be, then what hope do we have?

Eventually we managed to get to the location from a kind couple who gave us a lead. Ironically they were out walking their dog at the time. So me and Nigel arrived through the gates of the ‘academy’ at half past twelve – forty-five minutes after the time we were meant to have been there for. By this stage our motivation levels had faded dramatically and we were frustrated by what appeared to be a shambles of a set-up. Don’t worry, there’s more.

After the belated apologies and gripes about the shoddy directions, we were both promised ten minutes game time each. We were so apathetic at this stage that they could have told us we were bringing on the oranges at half-time such was our repulsion with the whole situation. It turns out that players who had performed miracles and actually got there on time had been given three games all of which were ten minutes straight through. So even if we had got there ahead of schedule we would still have only of got thirty minutes to show if we had what it takes to cut it at international level. Personally I think it is shocking that this information was never relayed to us before the trials and had we known beforehand, I strongly doubt we would have made such a journey for thirty minutes football. The only consolation for us was that one poor bloke had made the journey from Swansea for this ordeal.

I was also staggered at the amount of trialists that were on show. The organiser told us that there were 120 players at the event, many of which had signed up themselves. I was flabbergasted that it wasn’t even an elitist system. Surely the whole point of the England experience is that it is meant for the elite. After all, these are players that potentially have the ability to represent their country. I was recommended by a referee at Leisure Leagues and Nigel was selected by an old school teacher. Just imagine if Roy Hodgson picks his team for the World Cup by using this method. Every Tom, Dick and Harry would turn up, although in this case I don’t think an incompetent Tom or Harry had assisted in the running of the event.

In my ten minute spell, I was rarely passed the ball and other players seemed intent on performing pointless tricks in an attempt to impress the watching scouts. I didn’t feel out of place in regards to the standard and my team managed to post a 3-2 win, but I know that I am not going to be selected for the next stage. Nigel was on several games after me and he appeared to have more of an influence – either through his forceful demands of the ball or the crunching tackle he made in the opening few minutes. Wallace had arrived. And much like his namesake William, he was given the FREEDOM of the area to bag himself a goal.

We were informed that the England team last year were very unprofessional in their approach – getting drunk before a match and trashing their hotel. This was unsurprisingly a total contrast to the exemplarily standards set by the other countries in the tournament. Having attended this event I am not surprised that the England team acted in this manner as it reflects the abysmal planning that was in full view last Sunday.

If either of us have a chance to get through, it will be the big man and I will be as chuffed for him as anyone. However I don’t think ten minutes is enough time for any player to show their real quality. The day was capped off with pub food in the town centre which me, Jessica and Nigel agreed was the worst we had ever had.

I seriously doubt I would attend such an event again and in many ways in sums up the state of football in this country. The most satisfying part of the day was when we got back into Lincoln and were greeted by the magnificent sight of the cathedral. I would rather have spent two hours driving around Lincoln to see this awe-inspiring spectacle for ten minutes rather than travel two hours to Stevenage for ten minutes of football with ‘potential England players.’ Quite simply, it had been a day to forget (or a nightmare to remember).

FullTeam – A Chance For You To Play The Beautiful Game

The quality of being new and different in an individualistic and appealing way – originality is something we all crave. Being one of the unfortunate people who has been blessed with little or no artistic talent, I admire anyone who has the ability to express themselves in an independent manner and then put their dream into reality.

To be a great innovator you require passion as well as a vision to see something in the world that at times saunters past the blind eyes of the masses. Edison, Da Vinci and the Wright brothers are just a few names who have made the world a better place through their visualisation and written their names into the never-ending pages of innovation history.

‘Organised football’ or football as we know it dates back to 1863 and has and always will be one of my biggest loves. The ecstasy of a last minute winner, the heartbreak of missing out on penalties and the injustice of a poor refereeing decision – no sport can send you through such a drastic variety of emotions as the beautiful game.

The notion of influencing people to partake in football (and physical activity) is nothing groundbreaking and neither is the concept of online social networking with sites such as Facebook and Twitter now worth billions and billions of Great British Pounds. However a combination of the two may well be cutting edge and is relevant to the modern world as we continue to pursue technological perfection.

This blog is dedicated to my friends Joshua Chapman and Luke Heald who have come up will a clever concept that combines the two. Known as ‘FullTeam’ they aim to overcome the predicament that many football managers’ and captains’ face on a weekly basis when they find out at the last moment that a certain player/players are unable to make the game and as a consequence are unavailable for selection. This therefore leads to a frenetic rush as the under-pressure individual posts a status on every social networking site begging for a player whilst frantically ringing anybody in their contacts list who may have kicked an inflated pig bladder at some point in their lifetime thus giving them a ‘FullTeam’.

I know many readers will be thinking it sounds like I am ‘crying over spilt milk’ but such shortcomings can result in unplayed matches, uncompetitive games, hefty fines and a loss in commitment and passion, which ultimately results in teams and players dropping out of competitive football and before you know it that dream of winning your first piece of silverware has vanished.

Here is where and how the magic of FullTeam can be of assistance. Combining all the essential qualities of social networking and a database facility of players, the site will provide up to date player profiles, feedback and availability for individuals within your area. Individuals will be able to interact safely with other players to banter about classic encounters, what tactics to implement against specific sides and who is better: Cristiano Ronaldo or Lionel Messi?

From the outside the simplest way to look at it is as a ‘facebook for footballers’ and fans alike but the reality is that it can help increase participation levels in the beautiful game and who knows maybe help unearth the next wonderkid of English football. Remember when you used to collect Merlin Premier League stickers and you needed just a few players to complete the album? Well imagine going online and finding these players available to select with their ability and skills evaluated by other footballers for you to view and compare. ‘FullTeam’ provides managers’ and captains’ with the opportunity to fill a vacant position in their side through selection rather than having to get any young or old soul into their starting line up purely because of a lack of choice.

More importantly this strategy will give hungry individuals who love the game the chance to take part in competitive football on a regular basis and help improve the quality of football within their specific area. Having already secured a partnership with Leisure Leagues – the UK’s largest provider of five/six side football leagues, this unique concept has the potential to expand to a wider audience with the 11 a side sector and other team sports already being lightly mentioned.

So are Chapman and Heald on the way to being the UK’s answer to the Wright Brothers? Well unlike Orville and Wilbur these two have certainly remained grounded but will certainly be hoping their idea can take off in the near future. Both ooze unmatched enthusiasm for the sport and in particular Joshua is certainly able to relate to what is a common problem in any team game. The 26-year-old has ran a successful six a side team in Lincolnshire for five years now with the pinnacle being a memorable run at the National Tournament back in June where his side ‘Poetry In Motion’ reached the last 16 of the tournament.

So is FullTeam the next big thing since Reggae Reggae Sauce? Well Full Team may not be able to put music in your food but it will help you put a complete side out every week. In the words of Messrs Chapman and Heald: “The Game Must Go On.”

For regular updates on the project please follow FullTeam on twitter at: @FullTeam or ‘like’ their facebook page.