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The Voice's Thoughts

A new offering from our man in Cairo.

 Some names are immediately associated with class, let’s face it.  Shankly, Keegan, Cryuff for example.  Others form a natural double act - Clough & Taylor, Ferguson &  Kidd,  Poskett & Newton the legendary Hartlepool strike force, Hansen & Lawrensen (ask your dad, kids, they did something else before Match of the Day.)

 Other names just don’t have that magic ingredient.  Let’s face it Owen, Harvey and Eckford sound like the clog-dancing back-line of Accrington Stanley in the early post-war years.  Similarly Hickey, Howell and Eckford sound rather grim and are no true reflection of the fun that I once had down at Kingsholm.  Especially with Sandra’s rolls.

 To your average Glawster, supporter the names of Blackburn and Hainsworth are the ones that linger in the memory.  To all connoisseurs of football, glasses are raised nightly from Cornwall to Wolverhampton in celebration of their all too brief career.  But some time has passed now and Jen has told me that the News of the World are trying to get Ken to tell his side of the story.  After Sir Alex’s best-seller and before Sir Alan’s I have decided to cash in now.  I am thus able to grant you exclusive excerpts from “Life with the Black:  My Story,” by The Voice of Football. 

 Critics ( Ken’s sobbing daughters, wife and sons and Alan in the Pike and his Uncle La and Peter and Jan Butler and the staff at The Royal  ) accused me of being too harsh in my previous articles, so I am going to try my best and show Ken in the best possible light and set the record straight. These are the stories that show just what kind of bloke the real Ken Blackburn is .........

 Ken - Master Tactician

I had astutely  begun to suspect Ken was up to something.  Every week Ken would suggest I work with the keeper or go over throw - ins with the reserve left - back.  As soon as I was out of earshot Ken would call the boys in and discuss what to do in penalty shoot-outs.  I suspected nothing until a crunch game with Swindon.  At the half - time pep talk  Ken was giving his usual, authoritative homily when he was betrayed.  One hates to cause problems in the fair City of Glawster, but the boy was from the wrong side of Matson:  a Robinswood child.

“But Ken, with the diamond formation who marks the striker ?”

Ken moved on swiftly, a bit red-faced.  This was all news to me so I asked one of the subs about this Diamond Formation. 

“Oh, well, Ken says we shouldn’t tell you.  Ken says you’re from Hartlepool and it is too complicated for you to understand.  Sorry, ” he mumbled.

I was shocked that Ken could pull such a perfidious trick, and later in the “Pike and Musket,” I asked him about it.

“ O, don’t worry about that, And - it’s a new tactic and it’s a sure fire winner.”

Match of the Day was playing in the background.  Above the din and chaos I could make out Motty.

“ Beardsley waltzed through the Spurs’ defence  easily.  What is Venables doing with this new Diamond formation.   It’s an utter and  complete shambles !    What are they doing ?  Spurs 0,  Newcastle  3. ”

“You know best, Ken, ” The Voice smiled.

 Ken the Linguist

As one who has had a glorious career with Brighton, Cheltenham, The Pike and Shortwood Veterans, Ken finds it hard NOT using the F-word.  Thus it was in the middle of our first game, a pre-season friendly at Oxstalls that Ken felt it necessary to coach the back-four (or three, or two - I didn’t know if we were using the Diamond then.) 

“And will you stop ffffffff .........ffffffffff .fffffffffffff ............ “  Ken paused – he was unable to think of a suitable word.  “filly fallying around at the back.”   It never really caught on as a catch phrase, but Ken and the f-word went from strength to strength.

 Ken the Economist

“How much, Sandra ?  Eight quid for two coffees and a kit-kat seems a bit steep ! 

“ Stop moaning, And.  Ken said you were going to settle the “B” team hospitality account today.”

“ Oh, right,” I muttered.  It was going to be long season.  It was September 12th. 

“Don’t worry, And, I’ll get it next week ! ”

“But we haven’t got a game, ” I shouted after him, but Ken was engrossed in his book, “The Terry Venables Guide to Successful Business Practice.”

 Ken the Historian

On our first trip to Plymouth I had a few words to say about our host city. Being a teacher I had prepared a short, yet interesting lecture.  Ken cut me short.  He had done a few jobs there in the late seventies ( I believe all litigation has been completed now) and he knew the City well.

“ This pub here, boys, is the most famous place in Plymouth. ”

We were all impressed.  The great sage continued.

“ You’ve heard about the Pilgrims, haven’t you ? Well this is where they set off from.  They popped in here for a few pints, jumped in that boat there then rowed to America.”  The boys were most impressed with Ken’s learning.  Say what you like about grammar school education, Ken is a walking advert for Crypt.

Ken the Navigator

 “I am xxxxxx fed up with you reading the map – from now on I’ll drive AND I’ll read the map.  You teachers  don’t know nothing about  anything.”

The Voice knows when to back off and he wisely backed off.  It wasn’t the time to point out the double negative. And so it was decided.  Ken snatched the map off me and ordered me to point out our destination.  We were heading off to play Walsall and had to negotiate the busiest roads in Britain.  I gave Ken a few details and told him to get us to the red circle on the map.  Unwisely I had failed to notice Ken was eating a bacon sandwich.  On we went.  I didn’t try to help.  Ken was in charge and seemed really happy.  We headed along the M5 and sped effortlessly on.  Ken was in good mood and even let the players put on one of their tapes, for once not making us all listen to Status Quo.  Some twenty miles from Walsall Ken turned off the M5 and expertly guided us to The West Midlands Iron Smelting Gaelic Football Ground.  We were all a bit perplexed, but nobody dared challenge Ken.  Finally a brave and heroic youth dared to speak.  “Where are we, please Ken ? ” Ken rounded on the poor wing – back and told him we were just where we were supposed to be – right where the red circle said.  “But, Ken, the bold youth continued, “ that’s a tomato ketchup stain.  That’s where we should be.”  For legal reasons and common  decency Ken’s reply may not be produced here.

  Suffice to say, life with Ken was always great. Living far away in Cairo, I always feel a sharp pang on a Saturday morning as I remember all the lucky folk in Glawster who will be trooping down to Longlevens for more Good Days with The Black. 

 Cheers, Ken !

 

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