Auf Wiedersehen, Andi

The German World Cup winner, footballer Andreas Brehme, has died. I feel compelled to mention the time that I met him. 

It was July 1994, and I was spending the summer interning in the (then) UAHC Education Department at 838 5th Avenue, NY. At that time I was still a naughty smoker, and would pop out at lunchtime for a quick ciggie in the park. 

I was on my way back to the office, when I was passed by a gentleman who reminded me of Asterix the Gaul.

I realised that Andi Brehme was walking down 5th Avenue. Germany had just gone out of the World Cup to Bulgaria, and he was taking in the sights. I increased my pace to try and catch up, with no idea what or if I would say anything. I caught up with him just before the main door of 838. I tapped him on the shoulder, smiled, and said, "Schade Andi, aber gut gespielt!", then turned into the building. As I turned I could see his furrowed brow, trying to figure out how a woman had spoken to him about football in perfect German on a NY street and then disappeared through a door under a gigantic stone Biblical quotation.

It was sad to hear of his death. He was really quite young. Here is a link if you'd like to know more about his career:  BBC Sport.

 

Rest in Peace El Tel

 

News today that the footballer/manager/author Terry Venables has died. He was the captain and star of the first QPR team I ever followed, then the manager of my beloved team before he was poached by Spanish giants Barcelona. Known for his wit as well as his sporting intelligence, he led the R's to heights they'd not previously reached (an FA Cup Final!). Thank you for all the great memories.

Learn more about his life here.

Venables features, kind of, in a story about my sister's first time at Loftus Road. One of the visiting players on the field had been hit by the ball in a delicate part of his anatomy. The crowd started to chant, "In the balls, in the balls, in the balls!" The young and innocent child looked up at her father with her big blue eyes and asked, "Daddy, what are they saying?" He replied promptly, "they are singing the name of the manager!"

Cheers, Mr Motson!

News just coming through from London that the commentator John Motson has died at the age of 77. That is pretty young these days. I am really sad to hear this - he was such a lovely man. Above I have shared a letter that he wrote to me many years ago. You can see how kind he was. It so happened that we met at the Wimbledon pre-season photoshoot. Mr Motson asked if I would take a pic of him holding the FA Cup (won by Wimbledon the previous season) that he could give to his dad. I said I'd take one of him if he'd take one of me for my dad! The photo of him is in storage, but here is the one he took of me, glorious 1980s hair 'n' all. My condolences to his loved ones, and may he rest in peace.

Vale Vialli

 

Another dead footballer you may say, nu? Gianluca Vialli was certainly a great success in Italy, helping Sampdoria to win its first ever Scudetto, and after a then record transfer fee to move to Juventus, being part of their Serie A winning team as well. Despite his strong link to The Team That Must Not Be Named, he was a speedy and acrobatic player who scored some fantastic goals. So he is, and will always be, part of national and international football history.

Having just watched some of the tributes to Vialli on Italian TV today, I would also say that he was a great communicator off the field throughout his football career, a talent that he was able to transfer to management, and ultimately commentary and punditry.

Vialli's hope, however, was that his fight against the pancreatic cancer that ultimately killed him would inspire others in their own struggles, and give them hope. And this is why I'm writing about him today. His book "Goals:  Inspirational Stories to Help Tackle Life's Challenges", co-written with Gabriele Marcotti & published in 2020, might be of interest to you or a friend.

And if you would like to make a donation for further research into pancreatic cancer:

Pancreatic Cancer UK, Lustgarten Foundation, National Pancreas Foundation (US)

Here are some of his goals for you to watch.

His career details

May he rest in peace & may his memory be a blessing.

Adios Edson Arantes do Nascimento

 

Farewell to Pele, who died yesterday. All arguments regarding GOATs (Messi is better than Ronaldo is better than Zlatan or Lewandowski) are irrelevant here as there can be only one, and it is Pele. Here is an obituary in the Guardian.

I took this photo in August 1987 at Wembley before the Football League XI game vs the Rest of the World (when Maradona came out of the tunnel waving his "Hand of God" at the crowd!). It got me into a bit of trouble as I had fibbed I was unwell so I wouldn't have to go to a batmitzvah party after synagogue because I had a pass to photograph this match. 

Before the game started, there was a crowd in the centre circle of the pitch. I couldn't see what was going on, but needed to get a shot for my boss, and I was too short to see over the other photographers, so I crawled between their legs and stood up in the front. I found myself in front of a tv camera which was recording an interview with Pele, and was immediately shoved back down to the ground. However, this was not before my face appeared live onscreen, and my lie was thus discovered.

But I got the shot. And an autograph. RIP dear GOAT.

What Rabbis Used to Do

In this screenshot from an online version of a video of a copy of an old TV recording of a football match played in 1986 on a dark damp night in West London, goalkeeper Eddie Niedzwiecki holds onto a shot from QPR's Robbie James.

Behind the goal, between 1986 and the G of the ad hoarding, there is a frizzy-haired photographer who, if you watch the moving version of this video, is applauding (rather than photographing). I added an arrow in case my description isn't clear enough.

Sorry this isn't the moment of either of the winning goals being scored but by extra-time it was so damp and dark that I could no longer take a decent photo and so I decamped to the shelter of the tunnel by the dugout. What a night, though! #RTID

Drawing Together Ends 2021 Brightly

The Graphic Medicine's monthly Drawing Together group met again today. After losing the plot a couple of meetings ago, when I got stuck once again on my lack of technical drawing skills (and yet I still don't try hard enough to improve them!), I was encouraged to return by the artist leading this month's session.

The Zoom invitation included a few words from Judith:

"Learning to draw, or more accurately, realising how to look at things, for me marked the beginning of being an artist.

For this Drawing Together session, I have prepared a sequence of prompts with which you will explore when you learned how to draw and how you formed a unique sense of yourself as an artist.

As the New Year begins and the days grow longer, let's draw closer to the light, together."

Asked to recall our first memory of ourselves, what came to mind was sitting on the floor in our flat on W 116th Street, watching Bugs Bunny on TV whilst eating a piece of cheese. We had just under 2 minutes to draw this one.

The second prompt (4 mins) was a bit more difficult at first - I had absolutely no memory of the first time I knew that I liked to draw. I started to get anxious again but, thank goodness, other options were then offered, including "whatever it is that makes you you". And I looked back and saw my first camera, a Kodak Instamatic, and remembered how much from as far back as I go that I love taking pictures.

[the earliest QPR pic of mine I've found was taken with an Instamatic!

]

Judith concluded with a story about a woman she'd visited in a nursing home who had told her a story. The story made the woman very happy. She told it again. And again. In the end, it was the only story she told, but it always made her happy. Judith spoke about keeping ourselves in the light, and asked us to draw a favourite memory, perhaps the one story that we would tell when we were in the home.

Dithering about which memory would steal drawing time, and we only had 10 minutes, so I took the first that came to mind.

It was the day a congregant invited my dad to view the local derby with neighbours QPR in an executive hospitality box at Stamford Bridge. I happened to be a QPR photographer on the pitch that afternoon. In those days there were few, if any, women shooting football matches, so I usually got a lot of abuse from the crowd. However, the R's fans began to recognise me after a while. At half-time I walked towards the away end, and some fans began chanting my name. My father was so proud and excited - his favourite team, his first-born on the pitch, her name being sung by several hundred fellow fans. I sometimes wonder if this was just a bit better than the day he blessed me in front of the ark when I was ordained. So, this is the drawing. And even though it probably wasn't on that day, I drew the floodlight, shining down on the away end.

In between each prompt we got the chance to look at each other's drawings, and hear the stories behind them. I love this group - people are kind and supportive and encouraging. I hope it continues in 2022!

PS Sorry about the faintness of the pencil. You might see the drawings better if you click on them. They get bigger too!

Mazeltov Ellen White!

During the first half of the England Women's World Cup Qualifier vs Latvia tonight, striker Ellen White scored to become the all-time leading goalscorer for the Lionesses. 

She was rather thrilled to break this record. The second half is about to start - who knows how many more White may score tonight. In any case, congratulations & celebrations!

 

It's Not Banter It Is Racist

Hot on the heels of the resignation of the chairman of Yorkshire County Cricket Club following the investigation of racist behaviour at the club, this morning's football news headlines include video footage of West Ham supporters verbally abusing a Chasidic Jew on a flight to Belgium before a European cup-tie. 

There is a song about circumcision that is often chanted by so-called fans of teams playing against Tottenham, a team considered to have a particularly large fan-base in the Jewish community. The video today shows a man dressed in traditional Chasidic fashion making his way down the aisle of an airplane. The song can be heard as he passes by men who are singing it. Many are smiling and laughing, and some appear to be filming the incident. There is no reason to think this man is a fan of any football team, including Spurs. He is clearly being targeted for being a Jew. Some may say this singing is typical football banter. Even if you think that, rather than it being inherently racist, in this moment it was clearly a racist act.

A few years ago I was on a Metropolitan Line train around 2 pm on a Saturday. The carriage was full of West Ham fans on their way to a match. That was the first time I heard the song. On the one hand, it sounded innocuous - a bunch of grown men singing, "we'll be running round Tottenham with our willies hanging out, singing I've got a foreskin I've got a foreskin you ain't!" But typing these words cannot share the menace in those voices, nor the mean hard looks on their faces as they belted out their chorus of hate. Opposite me, a parent with a child sporting a Hammers replica shirt put a protective arm around their loved one. It was scary.

A spokesperson for the club has stated, "West Ham United is appalled by the contents of the video circulating on social media and condemn the behaviour of the individuals involved." They said that if they identify individuals involved, they will receive an indefinite ban from the club. Meanwhile, the video appears to have been removed from Twitter.

Jimmy Greaves RIP

One of the less happy exports to Italy but certainly one of England's greatest ever forwards and goalscorer. Jimmy Greaves has died. His playing career came to an end just before I became interested in football as a child, and I got to know him through his work as a pundit and from various video clips. I may not always have agreed with his perspective, but I usually enjoyed his presentation. My condolences to his loved ones and friends, and may he rest in peace.

BBC obituary

Tottenham Hotspur tribute

Daily Mail report

the Times obit (subscription necessary)

Coverage in the Guardian includes:

a video obit

obituary

a life in pictures

a blog post by Richard Williams including this comment:  "No one ever came up with a better phrase to describe Greaves's dominant characteristic than the late football writer John Moynihan, after watching Tottenham Hotspur play Slovan Bratislava in the quarter-final of the old European Cup Winners' Cup under the White Hart Lane floodlights on a spring night in 1963. Spurs won 6-0, 6-2 on aggregate, and Greaves scores with what Moynihan described as 'devastating nonchalance'."

Emma Raducanu Wins!

Quite an evening for emotions and blood pressure. The main story was, of course, the 18-year-old Brit who came through the qualifying rounds to win a Grand Slam tennis tournament without even losing a set. Emma Raducanu's journey is incredible, but it happened. And it was a pretty good match as well.

And all this after my beloved R's came back from 1-3 down to grab a draw in injury time away to the Fake Hoops. What a great sporting day!

Final word, though, is for Emma, who is surely a shoo-in now for SPOTY. Brava!

Is Anyone Watching the Olympics?

Is anyone watching the Olympics? I am. Enjoying the women's footy so far (Barbra Banda! Miedema! Ellen White!!!) and, thanks to having got caught up in collecting the Olympic stickers of the Italian team from Esselunga, am also noticing some more locally relevant action.

It's only the first day, so let's see how it goes. Shavuatov, have a great week!

Rabbi Albert H Friedlander z"l 17th Yahrzeit

My father died 17 years ago today. He would have been quite happy this morning about the football, and I really miss being able to share that with him (England just qualified to play Italy in the final of the European Championships). 

This reminds me of the very last words I heard him say - I was talking with my mother on the phone from Wisconsin to London and he was watching the European Championship final in the front room. At some point he picked up the extension and said, "the Greeks have scored." A while later he picked the phone up again and exclaimed, "the Greeks have won!" He always did have a soft spot for an underdog. And those were the last words I ever heard him say live. It was a Sunday evening, and he died on the following Wednesday. 

17 years is just about a generation ago. I am middle-aged and grey. Next month it will be 50 years since the two people in this photo went to see QPR play Millwall at Loftus Road, my first ever football match. I miss him for so many reasons, but today the one taking centre stage is the love for QPR, football and sport that he shared with me. May his memory continue to be a blessing.

The Retirement of Fara Williams

 

2016 Williams corner for Arsenal at Meadow Lane

The footballer Fara Williams announced her retirement today. She has one of the great sporting stories. You can get the stats here, but suffice it to know that she was homeless for six years during the early part of her career, and ended up with the most caps ever (172) for England, having played in 3 World Cups and Team GB at the 2012 Olympics.

2015 corner for Liverpool vs Arsenal at Meadow Lane

I was glad when she played for a team I supported, and thank her for the hard work she always put in, as well as the football joy I got from watching the matches. I understand she is now studying for coaching qualifications and doing media work. Wishing her well for this next chapter!

AJ at Work (1980's style)

A little insomnia once more led to internet wanderings, and just now I chanced upon a brief clip of a football match on the Omniturf at QPR in 1983. Watching R's goals is always cheery, and then imagine my surprise when, as the commentator focuses on a scuffle between our beloved Simon Stainrod and Villa's Peter Withe, I realise that the photographer in front of the elf advertising board is me!

This match was when I got one of my earliest photographers' passes from Ron Phillips, and I think the grainy screenshot above shows the moment I took the picture he printed. I don't have that programme to hand, but found a scan:

This was a bit of afters following some previous scuffles I think. I was quite proud of it at the time. Anyway, the photo has been with me all these years, but it was lovely to see the tv footage of long ago and far away.

Diego Armando Maradona RIP

It was sad to hear the news that Diego Maradona has died. Here in Italy it is headline news, and much of the evening on tv has been spent eulogising him. 

Living and being a football fan in the UK during the height of Maradona's career, of course the defining memory is the infamous "Hand of God" incident (Maradona commented on it some years later in a chat with Gary Lineker). Thus, although I cannot deny his footballing ability, there was quite a bit of resentment, not so much for using his hand, but for the way he responded when challenged about it. 

The photograph above, that I took at Wembley just over a year after that World Cup match, marks the only time that I saw Maradona play live. It was a commemorative friendly between a team representing the Football League and a Rest of the World XI. I remember clearly that when Maradona came out onto the pitch, the first thing he did was to wave the offending hand at the crowd (which might be the reason behind why he was booed whenever he had the ball).

Maradona was a gifted player, and had a stellar career, but was also plagued with problems of substance abuse and addiction. His demise is sad and premature. He will be remembered for his contribution to the beautiful game. May his loved ones be comforted as they mourn their loss.

tributes on the BBC news page

BBC obituary

Julie Welch's Fangirl

I may be horribly gushing and over the top, but I have to post this screenshot because for me, at least, it was an incredibly exciting moment:

I read an interview with Julie Welch today in the Guardian newspaper. For those of you not of a certain age, not UK football fans, not female UK football fans, you may not know her name. When I was a teenager, she was one of my heroines. She was the only woman I knew of then who was a football journalist, and certainly made it possible for me to think that one day I could get my own work onto the back pages of national newspapers.

And Julie Welch wrote "Those Glory Glory Days", which I just found in its entirety on YouTube here (Since I bought it as a videocassette in the olden days, I will not feel like a thief watching it again. I still have the VHS tape, but the machine that used to play it is knackered). When I first saw this film, I realised there were others who felt like I did (only not for QPR. TV mentions of the R's in those days were by characters like "Steptoe & Son" or when discussing crims on "Minder"). It was important to know I wasn't the only one.

To be honest, I hadn't thought about Ms Welch in a few years. Then I saw her name at the top of a webpage, and clicked on the link to find out what she had to say. The occasion for the interview was the publication of her latest book:  "The Fleet Street Girls:  The Women Who Broke Down the Doors of the Gentlemen's Club" (Times review here). In the interview, she speaks well of Brian Clough, godfather to one of her sons. From my days as photographer for the U of Nottingham student paper, and one particular incident at Loftus Road the night the floodlights died, I had developed a pretty low opinion of Mr Clough. So I found @DameJulieWelch on Twitter, and sent a message:

"As a female photographer for QPR I will never forget (c. 1985) Clough in my face screaming 'Get back in the effing kitchen where you belong.' Others were mesmerised by his charm. Umm ..."

And she replied.

Indeed it was. Memories came flooding back:  the foul and abusive language of the fans, dealing with projectiles aimed at my back during the game (everything from apples to small pieces of terracing wrapped in snow to fresh urine), the hostility of stewards and the old guard of Press photographers. But also, the players were lovely, one evening the trainer got the team coach to stop and give me a lift when I'd been stranded in the rain after a European friendly, day and night R's all around Shepherd's Bush would greet me with a cheery "Awright!" and, best of all, my dad got to hear the QPR fans singing his firstborn's name in the away end at Stamford Bridge. But back to Julie Welch ...

(Warning:  here comes the gush)

It wasn't just getting a reply, it was that she also followed me. Wow. Thank you Julie Welch. Proud to have stood on your shoulders for a while (at least one of them).

Living under Lockdown Day 40something: Saturday Afternoons

There are many of us who feel bereft on a Saturday afternoon (and, since the takeover by the TV companies; Sundays, Mondays, Tuesdays and all the other days of the week as well as the nights) because the pandemic necessitated the closing down of our favourite sports. Although I'm now an Ex-Pat, I still follow my beloved R's religiously. Last weekend, however, I found myself strangely captivated by what RAI Sport had offered up to fill the aching hole in my supporting schedule. Instead of tracking the Luton v QPR match, I watched Italian billiards. Long enough to have to go and look up some rules. After I got over the fact that there were no pockets on the table, and that points seemed to be scored by knocking over some upended Q-Tips balancing precariously in the middle, I found the blue of the cloth quite calming, and soon managed to fall asleep. It was truly a Shabbat of Shalom.

Megan Rapinoe

US co-captain Megan Rapinoe salutes the crowd after scoring the first goal in the 2019 World Cup Final against the Netherlands (photographer unknown)

So the 2019 Women's World Cup winners are the USA, beating the Netherlands 2-0 in France yesterday. As an American, I should be proud, and I can certainly say that I think the best team won. My European heart, however, suffered when England lost the semifinal (VAR! Ellen White's lost goal! The penalty miss (why didn't they let Lucy Bronze blast it through the net?!)! As a WSL fan, I had a strong commitment to the Lionesses, and I felt it when they did not prevail. For the final, the large contingent of Arsenal Women in the team, and a lifelong love of Dutch football, also turned out to have a pull on my heartstrings. Whilst the US players were clearly stronger, the Dutch held on staunchly, until they were felled by the awarding of a penalty kick in the second half. Megan Rapinoe, a co-captain of the US team, stepped up, and sent Sari van Veenendaal the wrong way to score the opening goal. It broke the Dutch team. Ah well, that's football. Congratulations, commiserations, and thank you all teams involved for raising the profile of the game.

I've heard conflicting opinions regarding Megan Rapinoe. My first instinct is to celebrate her for standing up for her beliefs, e.g., protesting her National Anthem in solidarity with NFL player Colin Kaepernick's stand against racial injustice in the USA; being part of a gender-discrimination lawsuit filing for equal pay for female soccer players; she is an ambassador for ending homophobia and transphobia in sport, she supports Paralympic athletes and donates a percentage of her salary to football-related charities. She ticks a lot of boxes for me. So where's the conflict? 

Earlier this week, Marc Thiessen wrote in the New York Post:

"Rapinoe is an amazing athlete. Her heroics in the quarterfinal against France were a wonder to watch. She has every right to express displeasure with the administration. Many Americans have legitimate grievances with Trump.

But Rapinoe isn't playing for the Trump administration; she is playing for the United States. It's one thing for a professional athlete to protest the national anthem, but quite another for a member of Team USA to do it. Rapinoe is protesting the Stars and Stripes while wearing the Stars and Stripes.

That isn't OK. Representing your country is a privilege, not a right. If she really feels she can't show respect for the US flag and anthem, then she shouldn't wear the US jersey, either."

(full article here)

It is clear today that many people I know, who may agree with Rapinoe's desire for change in various areas of national life and culture, are offended by what they see as her lack of respect for a national symbol and an institution. This surprised me, and that is why I'm taking a moment to consider the situation. 

Although I am a US citizen, and was born there, I did not grow up in America. I have to admit that I really do not understand, at a visceral level, the symbolism of the flag. In fact, my religious beliefs make me wary of such an icon, since idolatry is a big no-no in the Torah. Thus, I'm not too worried about flags and anthems. 

Therefore, what does it mean to represent your country in a sporting competition? What are the responsibilities that you take on when you put on the shirt? I would hope that you would  comport yourself according to the values that your country (is supposed to) represent (s). But what if you feel that the current administration is falling short of the national values in which you believe? Are you dissing your country if you use the platform your sporting prominence has given you to shine a light on what you believe to be flaws and failings in the life of your nation? As I write these questions, I am sorry if people feel hurt by what they see as the disrespecting of a badge or a shirt or a flag or a song. But, they are symbols. If what they stand for is under threat, I am glad that they (& I) live in a country where it is possible to question and debate and express dissent. And I am proud that there are people brave enough to speak out where they see injustice. So in the end, while I hope that all involved will say their pieces without resorting to ad hominem attacks or vulgar language, I congratulate Ms Rapinoe for her stand, and wish her well.

Cat Stops Play

Adding insult to injury, the Turkish club Besiktas has not only been knocked out of the Champions League football tournament by Bayern Munich, but they've also been charged by UEFA for allowing a cat on the pitch. According to the BBC, the exact charge is "insufficient organisation". As if anyone has ever been able to herd a cat!

Meanwhile, on Twitter, the cat was voted MoTM:

That reminds me of a previous MoTM winner at Loftus Road vs Leicester City a couple of years ago:

3rd February 2019 UPDATE

Yesterday a black cat on the pitch during the Everton loss to Wolves held up play for 7 minutes. Particularly amusing was the commentator's description of the cat's movements. You may find it on this BBC page (which also remembers other similar events, including the one that originally engendered this post).